Imagine Me Without You
by aleeeson
Summary: full summary inside. Chaylor. Eventual Troyella. And more unexpected couples to come .. please read & review! I stink at summaries, but if you're into dramadramadrama, you'll like this one.
1. problems

**full summary:** Chad and Taylor are having problems in their relationship, but can they work together to overcome the obstacles? Can Taylor tell anyone her big secret? When something unexpected happens to Gabriella, can Troy be there for her, even when he's losing his faith? Ryan and Sharpay areexperiencing family problems, plus something happens that will change their lives forever. And Sharpay's starting to developfeelings for someone nobody would expect ..  
Chaylor. Eventual Troyella. And more unexpected couples to come!

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author's note:_ hi! please read & review! hope you enjoy! 

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Chapter One – Love and Everything Else**

Troy came up from behind Gabriella and wrapped her in his arms tightly. She squealed with laughter, "Troy, you freaking scared me!" she planted a small kiss on Troy's lips, and he grinned sheepishly, giving Gabriella a big squeeze, as if she were a giant loveable teddy bear. They were messing around in the student library, behind shelves filled to the top with books. Gabriella had been trying to look for a book for her oral report in English, when troy sneaked up her.

She laughed again. "Troy!" She kicked around her All - Star black Converse high tops, squealing. She was in a light blue long sleeve—with a floral design at the bottom—and faded blue jeans to go with it. Around her neck was a silver beaded chain necklace with three hearts dangling from it—a birthday present from Troy.

The librarian, Mrs. Fallfox, appeared out of nowhere, as she usually did. "Keep it down, Mr. Bolton," she hissed at Troy, her face looking stern. "This is a _library_, not a theme park."

Still grinning, Troy nodded and finally let go of Gabriella. She rested her feet on the ground and looked at her boyfriend of almost a full year. Troy was in an old Abercrombie and Fitch sports shirt that Gabriella was sure she had never seen on him before, and he was wearing his dark red East High gym shorts, which he mostly played basketball in. His hair was a little ruffled and his face was sweaty, but it made him look cute, Gabriella concluded.

"What?" Troy noticed her staring at him.

She cocked her head to the side, smiling. "Nothing," she replied softly, "it's just…you are really great, Troy."

He smiled at that, and then showed his appreciation by playfully tickling her. She squealed and laughed until the librarian had to kick them out for the rest of the day, but they didn't care, as long as they were together.

Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez were one of East High School's "cutest couples." They looked so great together, they never argued, and they never forgot any important dates, like their ten-months anniversary or Valentines' Day. Troy, who was busy with the upcoming basketball season, always seemed to find time for his girlfriend, even if he had an hour of basketball practice. And Gabriella remained faithful to him, even though about a million guys in their school were chasing after her. Troy was her one and only love.

They had gotten together the previous year, when Troy was a junior and Gabriella had just transferred. They met on New Years' Eve at a ski resort in the mountains and were forced to sing together at a young adults party, and they really enjoyed it. A few weeks later they discovered they both went to the same school, East High, and found themselves wanting to sing more—because it felt great. They tried out for the Winter Musical against the most dominant people in the whole school—Ryan and Sharpay Evans—and, surprisingly, made the cut. The Winter Musical, called Twinkle Towne, was a major success. Also during this time, the East High Wildcats basketball team, led by Troy of course, won the championship and Gabriella won the school decathlon. There was an after-party at Troy's house, and that's where he and Gabriella got together. Everyone thought they were _so cute_.

Of course, they remained together for the rest of the year, and had a summer romance, up until their final year of high school. They were both seniors, graduating in the class of 2006. They had a lot to look forward to—the new basketball season, more musicals led by Ms. Darbus (the theatre-crazed drama teacher who referred to her shows as, "musicales"), another school decathlon, graduation, and of course, the Prom at the end of the year.

They also had a lot of things to worry about. Troy was seriously considering a basketball scholarship at USC, so he had to play his best in the game. Gabriella also wanted a scholarship to USC—so she could still be with Troy. They worked hard in their studies and games and tried to focus on what was _really_ important—besides their relationship—in order to graduate.

Gabriella considered this as she sat down in the passengers' seat of Troy's black-and-blue Hummer. He hopped in beside her, the drivers' seat, and they sat in the car for a few moments in silence. School had already ended a couple of hours ago, and they were looking for an excuse to hang out together. Gabriella had already finished her homework assignments, and Troy could do his later. Right now was their special time.

"Where to go." Troy leaned back in his seat, easing up. "Hang at my house?"

Still silent, Gabriella nodded. She would go anywhere with Troy at this point.

Troy started up the car and as he backed it up, Gabriella's cell phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and pressed the talk button. "Hello?"

"Uh, Gab?"

It was Taylor, obviously. Why was she calling right now? What did she want?

Gabriella cleared her throat. "Taylor? Hi, what's up?"

There was a pause on the line, some distant sounds of yelling, and then Taylor spoke in a worried voice, "Gab, I just wanted to check up on you. Are you okay?" She sounded really concerned.

_Why does she need to be concerned? Since _when_ was Taylor ever concerned?_ Gabriella thought, switching her cell phone to her left ear and giving Troy an apprehensive look. He didn't seem to notice. "Um, yeah, Taylor, I'm fine. What's the deal? Is there something wrong?" she asked uneasily.

"No, no," Taylor said, still sounding nervous, "everything's just great."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh." Taylor paused before speaking again. "—Yeah."

Gabriella wasn't sure that was the real truth. She bit her lip, fingering a piece of her dark wavy hair. "Um, Taylor? Are you okay? Is everything all right?" she mumbled.

Troy looked at her for a second; his eyes worried, and then turned them back to the road. They were driving along the Spectrum, a collection of shops and grocery stores and a movie theatre. It was quite sunny for a warm September afternoon in New Mexico.

"It's cool." Taylor sounded like she didn't want to speak.

Still not sure, Gabriella sighed and said in a soft voice, "You know Taylor, if there's anything you want to talk about, I mean _anything_, you know you can always tell me. I'm here for you, okay?" She was really worried for her friend.

On the other line, Taylor nodded. She felt horrible for not telling Gabriella anything, but she felt this wasn't the best time. "Okay. Thanks, Gab."

"Anytime."

They hung up, Taylor on the verge of tears. Gabriella reached over and squeezed Troy's hand tightly. "There's something wrong with Taylor," she whispered loud enough for him to hear.

He raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"I—I don't know." Gabriella struggled to find the right words to say. "She's breaking down, I could tell. It's as if something bad happened between her and Chad—"

Suddenly they both looked at each other, eyes wide. _Had_ something happened?

Taylor McKessie was one of Gabriella's closest friends. She was smart, maintained a 4.0 GPA since kindergarten, and was also a member of the school decathlon team, like Gabriella. She was an only child, sensitive but strong. She spent her time usually hanging out with Gabriella and the rest of their friends, or writing poetry in the back of her notebook.

Chad Danforth was one of the most popular guys in school, besides Troy, and was also a star on the Wildcats basketball team. He was Troy's best mate and Taylor McKessie's "hot" boyfriend with big hair. Chad was a real man, but he didn't like to admit his feelings. He was strong and tough, but also very friendly. Sometimes he couldn't find the right words to say. Taylor loved him because of his great, funny personality, and his nice smile. Chad always found a way to make Taylor laugh, and he was a loyal, honest boyfriend, everything Taylor had wanted.

They weren't an "It" couple like Troy and Gabriella, but they were still cute. They had their share of fights, but that was normal in a relationship, wasn't it? They weren't perfect.

But now, Troy wondered, how could his best friend do something to hurt Taylor? And what exactly had he done?

There was no time to keep wondering. Troy turned the car around in the direction of Chad's house.

"Where are we going?" Gabriella mumbled.

"Chad's," Troy replied, his face looking grim, "to see what's up."

Gabriella was fearful. "I hope nothing real serious happened to them," she heard herself speaking as they turned the corner toward the Pines, a semi-wealthy neighboring community where Chad lived.

They parked the car under the streetlight in front of Chad's house. Troy abruptly held Gabriella with all his might and whispered comfortingly in her ear, "Don't worry, Gab. I know Chad. We'll fix this."

Gabriella, still looking doubtful, nodded, embracing the warmth of Troy's hug. Together they walked up the steps to the front door, and Troy knocked three times on the hard wooden door. A few minutes later it swung open and out stepped a sleepy-looking Chad.

His eyes widened when he saw them. "Hey—whatthe?" he began, but Troy stopped him.

"What's going on with you and Taylor?" he asked almost too suddenly.

Chad stared at him in disbelief. "I—you—what?"

Troy went on to speak. "Taylor. Why is she hurting? What the heck _happened_?"

Chad stepped aside to let the two of them in. He went to the kitchen and brought them two glasses of fresh-squeezed lemonade, and then explained his story. "I'll tell you what happened," he muttered. "_Nothing_ happened."

Still, Gabriella wasn't so sure. She managed to choke out, "Then why was Taylor crying when she called me earlier this afternoon?"

"Heck, like I know." Chad took a quiet sip of lemonade.

Troy and Gabriella exchanged hesitant looks, and then Troy said, "Do you even _care_?"

There was a momentary pause before Chad finally spoke. _He sounds so unsure of himself,_ Gabriella noted. _Is he even telling us the truth?_ "Well yes, I do care," she heard Chad murmur. "I mean, Taylor's my girlfriend, is she not?"

"Yeah, but it seems like you don't really care about what's happening to her."

He protested at this. "I do too!"

Troy sighed. This was useless. "Yeah? Okay. Prove it. Did you even _know_ she was hurting?" he asked doubtfully.

Chad went with the truth. "No," he replied calmly. "I didn't. She doesn't even tell me these things, when I could have helped out."

"But do you know _why_ she's hiding it from you?" Gabriella asked.

"No." Well, it was the truth, Chad thought.

"Do you even care to know?" Gabriella felt like Dr. Phil, asking him all these curious questions.

"Well, technically speaking, not really." Chad wondered if he was being invaded on his private thoughts about Taylor, but whatever. "I mean, I do care and all, but it's not really any of my business. Don't you think?" He took another gulp of lemonade.

Instead of agreeing, Troy just simply looked at Gabriella, then at him, saying, "You're really new to this boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, aren't you?"

Chad gawked at him. What was he saying, that he wasn't a good boyfriend to Taylor? What kind of "best friend" would say that sort of stuff? "Um, Troy, if you didn't know, I _do_ have experience. And I know from this experience that when a girl is hurting, it's always best to back off and give her space—"

Troy laughed. "_Space?_" he cried. "Is that what this is about? Space?" He grinned at Gabriella.

She didn't laugh, not finding the comment so amusing. "Chad, let me tell you something," she said softly, putting a hand on Chad's left knee. "Now I'm a girl, and I have a boyfriend, and I know from past experience exactly what a girl wants. We want space, yes, but not so much space that our relationship becomes…distant. No, we don't want that." She raised an eyebrow to see if Chad understood, and he nodded.

"We don't want to become so far apart from our boyfriends," Gabriella continued, feeling like an expert on the subject. "Yet we don't want them to be so attached. You know what I'm trying to say?"

Feeling like an idiot, Chad nodded. Maybe he didn't know so much about girls as he thought.

After Gabriella's helpful advice, Troy forced Chad to call up Taylor and ask if she was doing okay. Not wanting to stick around to see what happened, Troy and Gabriella left, feeling like heroes.

"You know what, Gab?" Troy whispered when they were driving away in the Hummer.

"Hm?"

Troy beamed at her. "You are going to make a great teacher," he admitted.

Gabriella laughed playfully, swatting his shoulder with her hand. "Me? A teacher? Nah."

He nodded. "Yeah. Definitely."

They teased each other around for a few more minutes before Troy dropped Gabriella off at her house. Holding hands, they walked to the swinging bench out in the front yard. The sky was already getting dark, and they watched the sun as it settled beneath the low mountains, out of sight. The sky turned a shade of light purple.

Gabriella slipped her hand into Troy's. "This is beautiful," she breathed.

"Yeah."

They were silent for a moment, watching as the clouds disappeared from view and the first stars popped up, little bright lights in the nighttime sky. "I hope Taylor and Chad are okay now," Gabriella mused.

Troy nodded in agreement. Smiling, Gabriella rested her head in his lap and lay there as he quietly stroked her precious brown hair. They lay there, under the stars, and were quiet for the rest of the night as the rest of the world went on around them.


	2. your average high school party

_author's note_ - i got a lot of nice reviews from everyone, which made me happy. I'm already on like chapter ten, but I just haven't had time to upload any.anyway, here's chapter two! Enjoy! and please review they are what keeps me going.:)

**Chapter Two – your average high school party**

Taylor was not all right, like she'd told Gabriella and Troy and the rest countless times before. She'd lied. She couldn't tell them—they wouldn't understand. Not even her boyfriend could know. It was too dangerous a secret. If people found out, she would be dead. No, worse than dead.

There would be rumors, gossip, people talking behind their backs. Average high school stuff. Taylor liked attention, but she could not stand being the center of it. Not even if she would be popular.

She lay down on her bed, closing the curtains in the dimly lit room. For a while she rested there, alone in the darkness, thinking. How would her friends react if they found out? Most importantly, how would her _boyfriend_ respond? Chad was the love of her life. Maybe she didn't feel as strong as the connection between Troy and Gabriella, but she felt it. She could spend the rest of her life with Chad if she wanted to.

But it was too late now. Chad would never, ever want to spend the rest of her life with someone who did something as bad as what Taylor did…

Groaning, she sat up in bed, her heart pounding. She couldn't live the rest of her life in guilt. She'd have to tell _someone_. But who?

Gabriella. There was only one person she _could_ tell, and that was her trustworthy friend Gabriella Montez. Gabriella always understood everything Taylor said, and she always listened. She was one of those great friends that really and truly cared—friends that are hard to find.

So Taylor was about to pick up the phone and dial her number when the phone rang itself. Fearful, she picked it up and crocked into the receiver, "Hello?"

"Uh, Taylor?" said a familiar male voice on the other line.

_Oh God,_ Taylor realized, _it's him._ "Um, Chad?" she asked attentively.

"Taylor." Chad's voice seemed shaky and nervous, like he didn't know what he was about to say. He cleared his throat twice, then went on to speak. "Gabriella and Troy came over…they said you're not doing well, so I wanted to uh, check up. Are you okay?"

It was nice of Chad to call, but he'd probably only done it because Troy forced him to, Taylor realized. "Um, I'm fine. Just fine," she mumbled.

"It doesn't sound like it, Taylor."

"No, really. Everything is great." Taylor felt really guilty about lying, especially to her own _boyfriend_, but what could she do?

Chad still didn't seem convinced. "Taylor. I need you to tell me the truth. Gabriella said when you called her you seemed really…I don't know, like something happened or something. Do you want to talk about it?" he asked her supportively.

Taylor sniffled on the phone. "N-No," she whispered.

On the other line, Chad sighed loudly. He knew Taylor was hiding something from him, but he couldn't figure out just what. _Could it really be that bad?_ He wondered. But there wasn't much time to ask questions.

"Okay, um, well…there's this party at Sharpay Evans's house tonight, if you want to go."

Taylor didn't say anything.

Chad sighed again. "Um…I can take you there if you want. We'll go together, but if you don't want a ride…it's at eight o'clock, okay? Well I have to go. Bye, Taylor, love you." He paused a moment, waited for her to speak, and when she didn't say anything, he hung up.

When the receiver clicked and the steady hum of the telephone began to ring, Taylor set down the phone, lay down on her bed and cried. This was the worst she'd ever felt in a long time.

"Sharpay, don't forget to bring down the salsa."

Ryan Evans stood in a red Hollister t-shirt and low-cut khakis, from his place at the bottom of the stairs that led to the den. Ryan was tall and slender, with dirty-blonde hair that he usually hid under a cap. He had an interesting style…while his sister wore all the latest fashions.

Sharpay, though she was short for her age, was born to be a leader. She had big blonde hair and a dazzling smile. She loved to sing and dance, and she was a very good actress. Her brother also shared the same talents. Together they were unstoppable—the best two leaders in the performing arts. They were a part of the EHS Drama Club, led by Ms. Darbus; in fact, they _were_ the Drama Club.

And though these two were known as snobs, especially Sharpay, they still somewhat had a place on the A-list (the popular crowd) at East High. In fact, they were well known around school as the Ice Queen and King.

They met Troy and Gabriella when the two auditioned for the winter musical the previous year. Sharpay was furious that someone might steal her spotlight, so she and Ryan tried to get Troy and Gabriella to back out of the musical. When that plan didn't work, they talked to Ms. Darbus about setting the days of the basketball championship, Gabriella's decathlon, and the callbacks at the same time. That didn't work out either, and Troy and Gabriella won the starring roles. Sharpay eventually learned to give in.

And now, as she stood at the top of the stairs with Ryan watching her at the bottom, she felt inclined to invite the whole "gang"—A-listers only—to a hangout at her mansion/house. It would only be a great way to patch things up between everyone.

Ryan, standing at the foot of the stairs, crossed his arms. "You did buy salsa, didn't you?"

Sharpay managed a weak smile. "No, Ryan, I'd forgotten. Whoops—it must've slipped my mind. Oh well. Tootles!" She gave her brother a wave and walked off toward the kitchen, her big blonde hair bouncing. Ryan was calling after her, but she pretended to not notice.

She stopped in front of the big mirror in the hall to examine herself. She was wearing a pink tank top from Banana Republic and a matching skirt to go along with it. She'd strung in big hoop earrings in her earlobes, and applied some lipstick, blush, and mascara to her face. Around her neck were more than a dozen beaded necklaces.

"I love mwah," she whispered into the mirror before walking off. She had things to prepare—it was nearly seven-thirty; the party was in less than an hour. She could barely contain her excitement.

Going into the living room, which was decorated in comfortable furnishings from Ikea, Sharpay set down a bowl of tortilla chips onto the table…with no salsa to go with it. Oh, well. She was sure everyone could eat chips without dip.

Ryan appeared beside her, rolling his eyes. "What do you mean 'oh well?' What's a tortilla chip without salsa?" He reached into the bowl and picked one up, wagging at her. "We need salsa!"

Sharpay sighed, settling down on the blue futon couch. "Relax, bro, I got it all covered. We'll use sour cream." She flashed him a smile.

"What are you, Sharpay, an anarchist?" Ryan cried in disbelief. "Who in their right mind would eat chips with _mayonnaise_?"

Frowning, Sharpay crossed her arms. "Well, jeez, would you think about the poor kids in south India, or in the Philippines, begging around for at least a scrap of food? They would eat the chips with mayonnaise, most def." She sighed loudly.

"Well we're not in India." Ryan collapsed onto the couch beside her, groaning. "Who'd have thought throwing a party would be so tough."

"Definitely," his sister agreed.

Suddenly the doorbell rang and Sharpay leaped up from the couch. Fluffing her hair, she called out, "I'll get it!" and scurried to answer the door. She swung it open—it was Troy, followed by Zeke and most of the basketball team.

Immediately her face broke out into a smile. "Troy!" she cried out, extending her arms out so she could give him a big Sharpay-Evans hug. Troy managed a weak smile and reluctantly returned the favor.

"Hey Sharpay," came a voice from behind Troy…Zeke. Sharpay, disgusted but thrilled, waved at him and that was that. She thought nothing of Zeke, really—except for his talent in basketball and baking. Zeke, on the other hand, had been trying to impress Sharpay for his whole four years at East High. This was his last year, and his last chance.

He held out a brown lunch bag. "Uh, I made you something," he sputtered, handing Sharpay the bag. She looked inside—cookies. There was chocolate chip, raisin, macadamia nut; you name it in there. It smelled freshly baked.

She smiled to show her appreciation. "Um, thanks, Zeke!" she said loudly, placing the bag on a spare table where she knew someone would probably eat it. She wasn't a cookie person; she'd been trying to watch her carbs.

Zeke grinned at her and opened his mouth to say something again, but Sharpay moved just in time. "Okay guys," she called out to everyone mulling in the living room, "the party is downstairs, in the den!" They went like a flock of sheep down the stairs and into the den after they'd finished greeting Ryan and Sharpay.

"Okay, good," Sharpay said, watching them as they headed downstairs. "Basketball team's here, now we need the cheerleaders."

At that exact moment the doorbell rang again, and a mob of people—including the cheerleaders, still in their uniforms since they'd just come from a football game—rushed inside, chattering and laughing. Sharpay and Ryan led them into their den, which was already jam-packed with people. Someone had turned up the stereo, and a techno-pop beat blasted from the speakers. Everyone was dancing.

After the cheerleaders and other A-listers arrived, the football team came, whooping and cheering since they'd won their game that night. And after they came, other people just started coming in. Sharpay wasn't keeping track of them anymore—her house had turned into a party zoo.

Ryan went to his room, saying he needed a break, and Sharpay headed downstairs to the den to check up on Troy. He was standing by the juice bar—which only served strictly juice, no alcohol—talking with none other but Chad Danforth, who had arrived earlier without Taylor by his side. For a moment Sharpay wondered where Chad's lady was, but she didn't really care.

She made her way through the crowd of dancing teens to where Troy and Chad were standing, sipping their smoothies. She saw Chad give Troy a suspicious look, and then he flocked off, as if not wanting to be there. _Oh well,_ she thought with a smile, _I'm alone with Troy now._

"Hi Troy." She wagged her fingers at him.

"Oh hey Sharpay," Troy said wearily. "Some party, huh?"

Sharpay nodded, grateful to have made conversation with him. "M'hm. But it's great, right? You like it?" she inquired.

Troy nodded, his face looking hot and sweaty and nervous.

"Is Gabriella here?" she asked sweetly.

There was this frozen look of terror on Troy's face, and then he choked out, "Not yet. But uh…she will be." The truth was, he didn't know anymore. Gabriella had said she'd come, even though she didn't really like Sharpay that much. But it was already 8:47 and she still wasn't there.

Sharpay figured it out from the look on Troy's face. "You're expecting her."

He turned red, staring down at the tile floor beneath them. "Um…yeah. Kind of. Yes, actually," he blustered, feeling completely idiotic. Sharpay smiled secretly. _He looks hot._ She had quite an obvious thing for Troy since they met in junior high school, but he'd never noticed. Now was the right time—the last year of high school—filled with the usual East High drama, suspense, and romance.

If only he didn't meet Gabriella Montez.

She sighed out loud. Gabriella was too much of a goody-goody. She was too plain good. She wasn't rich like Sharpay was, but she had real heart and cared for others. _What a load of crap,_ Sharpay thought restlessly.

"Well screw Gabriella," she muttered under her breath.

"Huh?" Troy asked, confused.

She flashed him another smile. "Oh, nothing, Troy." She changed the subject, willing to talk about anything than that stupid goody-two-shoes Gabriella. "So how is everything?"

Troy looked baffled for a second, and then scratched his head nervously. It seemed everyone was asking him that question, but he always didn't know what to say. Fine. Great. Just splendid. No, that wasn't how everything was _really_ going.

Finally he settled with, "All right, I guess."

Sharpay nodded—Troy suddenly noticed how cute she looked in her little pink skirt, sort of. But he pushed that thought from his mind. It was weird enough to even think of Sharpay like _that_. It was like, as Chad once said, comparing Sharpay to a mountain lion.

Troy, Sharpay noted, also looked especially hot that evening. He was wearing a decent black Armani sweater—with no ruffles, thank God—and pocket jeans from American Eagle. His hair was gelled and he wore dark brown Vans. Sharpay decided to say something.

"Not looking too shabby for a basketball player," Sharpay commented Troy.

He turned around and smiled. "You're not looking so bad yourself," he replied.

Sharpay felt herself blush—she was really liking this. Incidentally, she twirled a piece of her golden-yellow hair between her fingers and shrugged her shoulders innocently. Whoever invented the art of flirting was a genius.

Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder…she turned around to see Eduardo, the butler, standing behind, looking quite pale. "You have a phone call, Miss Sharpay," he sputtered nervously, as if just being in the middle of the party pained him. Troy wondered if he was paid well.

"All right, all right, go back inside, Eduardo. I'll take care of this." Muttering, Sharpay took the phone away from his grasp and said casually into the receiver, "Sharpay speaking, who is this?"

The deep voice was hard to comprehend under the loudness of the techno-pop music, which had changed to something by Kanye West and Jamie Foxx, but Sharpay could hear it very clearly. "You have one hour before your time is up," the voice said.

"Um, what?"

"One hour, and then get out of the house." The receiver clicked, and the voice was gone.

_Weird,_ Sharpay thought, putting the phone down on the table. _Must be some prank._ She went back to her party, which was getting so wild and out of control no one really cared anymore. Troy had disappeared to go look for Gabriella, and Ryan was nowhere to be seen.

And then Zeke was coming. _Great_, Sharpay sighed. It was going to be a long night.


	3. where's Gabriella?

_author's note - _once again, everyone, thanks for the great reviews and keep it up! this will be a short, sad, and shocking chapter. enjoy kids!

**Chapter Three – where's Gabriella?**

Yawning, Gabriella Montez opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep on top of her desk, over her pile of homework she was supposed to be doing. She checked her watch—9:15! Shoot. Sharpay's party. Troy would be looking for her.

She climbed out of bed and pulled on her best pair of jeans and a navy blue-colored tank top that she'd gotten at Aeropostale. On her ears she strung dangling lightweight metal earrings and applied lipstick and blush to her face. She added her own personal touch, a sparkle of glitter in her hair…there. She was ready.

Still tired, Gabriella went downstairs to the living room to find her mother, Katie, asleep on the couch in front of the television set. She smiled, bent over, and gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she headed for the garage door to get her car keys.

For a moment she sat in the front seat of her red Toyota Camry, thinking. Should she really go to this party? No doubt, yes. It was a Friday night; she'd much rather spend it with Troy than sleeping on the couch watching old John Travolta movies. Even if it was at the house of the girl she didn't very much like.

But leave her mother? Katie was a nice, understanding parent, but she would definitely be concerned if she found out her daughter had snuck off to some high school party. Gabriella wondered if it was even worth taking chances. But she _had_ to see Troy.

Sighing, she started up the car and backed out slowly. She was a slow driver, having just recently gotten her license from the DMV by her city. Sometimes she'd much rather just walk. At least no air was polluted…and you got some good exercise out of it. She drove along the dark, dimly lit neighborhood—New Mexico government had a strict policy about conserving energy from the lamplights—and onto the main road. Cars and SUVs whizzed past her as she tried to make a left turn. There. She'd made it.

Careful, she drove along the road and immediately braked at a red light, allowing the cars on the other side of the road to go by. She watched the cars as they passed, allowing her mind to drift. She was thinking about Troy and the memories they had shared.

She remembered when Troy first told her he loved her…it was at his after-party exactly a year ago. They had been outside on the deck, alone. It was the most romantic experience in Gabriella's young life.

Troy was no Romeo, but he was extremely sweet. He showed up at school with flowers, and offered to give her a ride home. He wasn't much of a poet, and he didn't like Shakespeare, but he tried his best to write her something special. Gabriella always kept these notes and letters in a secret drawer in her room, where she could always look back on them and smile.

Still grinning, Gabriella looked out onto the main road. The light suddenly turned green, and she moved forward. Troy. What a beautiful name. It sounded perfect next to hers: Gabriella. Troy and Gabriella. Troy and Gabriella _Bolton_.

They would be married outside on a hillside amongst dozens of flowers. Gabriella's mind was racing, already mapping out her future. No, they would be married on the beach, in front of the sparkling blue ocean and the golden sunset. It would be a Hawaiian-style wedding, with ukulele players and coconuts. Oh, and don't forget the Hawaiian hula dancers. The reception would be held right there on the beach, with a bonfire and drinks and dancing. A wedding reception under the stars. It would be wonderful, memorable.

And Gabriella would be wearing a beautiful long Hawaiian skirt that flowed with the wind, a sarong. She'll have a hibiscus flower in her hair. She'll dazzle the audience. She'll surprise her groom. Troy would be wearing an open-button flowery shirt that didn't look like it came from the 70's. They'll be married there, on the beach, in front of the whole world. She didn't care. It would be a perfect wedding.

Gabriella smiled at this. She fingered the silvery three-heart necklace around her neck, feeling the smooth shape of the hearts. She would always and forever be Troy's, and no one else's. She could never love anyone else as much as she did Troy.

And as she thought about him, she looked up at the stars, twinkling in the bright New Mexican sky, imagining they were Troy's eyes that sparkled whenever he saw her. Troy's amazing blue eyes…

Suddenly Gabriella turned around—she heard the awful screeching sound of a car—as she saw the bright, blaring lights coming toward her, closer, closer…and all she could remember was the sound of the other car as it hit her door, sending window glass shattering all over her, sparkling like diamonds and falling into the darkness. And that was all.


	4. awful news

_author's note -_ once again, some pretty nice reviews which made me want to update. keep it up, everyone, and thanks!

**Chapter Four – awful news**

"Kels, how does this look?" Karyanne Neilson spun around in her light, faded orange strapless dress, faking a smile. She felt horrible and sick to her stomach.

Her sister Kelsi sighed and leaned forward. Kelsi had just turned seventeen that month. She was a young teen with short-length hair the color of hazel. Her eyes were bright green, and spread out on her face was a mass of freckles. She was short for her age; a lot of people thought she was only fourteen. But shy as Kelsi was, she was very pretty. No one seemed to notice it amongst those huge glasses she wore every day, even to sleep.

Karyanne twirled around, examining herself in the full-length mirror. "Ugh. I look like a walking carrot," she finally said, disgusted.

Kelsi couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I was just going to say that," she admitted.

The sisters had been close, at least for their years of childhood. Karyanne was 22 years old, so there was about a 5-year difference between the sisters, but that didn't stop them from growing up together. They took tap dance, went to science camp, and had piano lessons every Friday. They went to the same schools, but by the time Kelsi entered East Elementary at age 7, Karyanne was already entering junior high school. Still, they remained close as ever. Karyanne always offered advice to her younger sister about school, teachers, and yes, boys. Although Kelsi hadn't had a boyfriend before—Karyanne was the one who came home swarming thick with boys.

And while Kelsi remained jealous through most of her teenage years, Karyanne went home each week with a new boyfriend. She could write whole books about them. Kelsi often wondered how her sister did it—but the answer was quite obvious; Karyanne was popular. And beautiful. After all, that's what boys want in a girlfriend, right?

But here was Karyanne, age 22, getting _married_. This was far more serious than coming home with a boyfriend, Kelsi realized. Once she was married, her sister would be gone, forever. So long were the constant arguments about who got to use to bathroom. So long were the sisterly hugs and boyfriend advice. Karyanne was a grown up.

Kelsi bit her lip, looking admirably in her sister's direction. Karyanne was now trying on a pale pink dress with a floral design at the hem. She was getting married to her boyfriend of three years, Steve Camacho. _What a lucky guy,_ Kelsi thought, _to have a girl like my sister._ Steve was really blessed.

"Hey Kar?" Kelsi suddenly blurted.

Her sister turned to look at her, her eyes questioning. "Hm?"

"Do you love him?"

Karyanne was confused. "Who?" she asked impatiently.

There was a small pause, and Kelsi whispered, "Steve." She felt so stupid even asking the question; she already knew what her sister was going to say.

"Of course I love Steve," Karyanne said quietly, sitting down on the bed beside her younger sister. She twirled a piece of her shiny brown hair. "I think."

What? Kelsi's mind boggled. "You _think_?" she gawked.

"Well, um, yes." Karyanne sighed, scooting over next to her sister and wrapping an arm around her. "Steve's a really sweet guy, Kels, and I really do believe he's the One." She smiled happily, feeling the hem of her very pink dress, where the lace was sewed on with careful stitches. And then she sighed again. "But…"

Kelsi raised an eyebrow. "But?"

The girls looked at each other for a moment in silence, and then Karyanne scratched her head and admitted thoughtfully, her voice awfully low, "But what if he isn't? What if he turns out to be this jerk, like all the other boyfriends I'd had? They were all _jerks_, Kelsi. I really love Steve. But what if"—her voice cracked painfully—"what if he turns out to be like the other guys?" At that moment she started to sob, the tears pouring down her face. Kelsi reached over, sitting up, and gave her sister a hug.

She rested her head on Karyanne's shoulder. "Kar. Don't cry, please don't cry," she wished.

"I love him, Kelsi!" Karyanne wailed.

Like the loving, caring, and a bit jealous sister that she was, Kelsi patted her head as Karyanne buried her face in a pillow. "I know, Kar, I know," she said comfortingly, soothingly. She really did feel sorry for her sister right now, even if she was a bit jealous of her.

Suddenly the door flew open and in came Kelsi's mother, wearing a weepy face—but nothing like Karyanne's—and holding the cordless phone.

Immediately Kelsi sensed there was something wrong. "Mom? Are you okay?" she asked, ignoring her sister's wails.

"It's your f-friend, Gabriella Montez," Mrs. Neilson whimpered, holding out the phone. "She's hurt."  
+

"Troy, my man!"

Troy turned around to see Blake Wagner, the quarterback of East High's football team, making his way through the party crowd toward him, escorted by a girl in a tiny blue jeans skirt. Troy looked closer and realized the girl was Julianne Crew, co-captain of the varsity cheerleading team.

He grinned. "Yo, Wagner!"

They did the handshake, patting each other on the back. "Dude, so how's my playmaker homeboy doing?" Blake laughed.

"All right, man, all right." Troy felt extremely happy. He hadn't seen Blake since last school year. They'd been good buddies since pre-k.

Blake turned and whispered something in Julianne's ear; she was suddenly wagging her little fingers at Troy. She gave him a sly smile and said, "Hi Troy." Troy turned scarlet.

"Troy, this is Julianne Crew, my chick," Blake introduced, grinning from ear to ear. He nodded at Julianne, whistling. "Isn't she something?"

Troy gulped and nodded—he had to admit Julianne _was_ something. She wore her hair down, and it had that wet look, like she'd just come from the shower. She had on a light pink Abercrombie shirt—typical for cheerleader fashion—and a short jean skirt that only went up to her thigh. Ew. But still.

He shook these thoughts away; he had a girlfriend. Gabriella was perfect enough. _And speaking of Gabby, where is she?_

Meanwhile Julianne was moving close to Troy. She took his hand, giving him a devious smile, and said lightly, "Hey, want to dance?"

Oh God. Troy looked up for any sign of Blake, but he had disappeared off into the crowd. Then Julianne grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the dance floor, her fingers intertwined with his.

Well what other choice did Troy have? He let the music take control over his body and danced.

"You're a great dancer," Julianne was whispering into his ear, spinning around him.

"Uh, thanks." What else was he supposed to say?

"You're cute," Julianne said aloud, smiling.

Troy jerked his hand back. No way was he going to tolerate this. "Don't you have a boyfriend?" he asked, suddenly irritated with this girl's wacko behavior.

Julianne smiled at him. _God, she really does look nice,_ Troy thought, but he wouldn't stand for it. "But Blake's not here, is he?" she admitted.

This was unbelievable. Shaking his head, Troy moved away from her and went back into the sidelines. He scanned the crowd for Chad or Jason, or even Sharpay, but they were nowhere to be found. He pushed past people, making his way up the stairs and into the house. Couples were already macking around him. Ew.

He walked into the kitchen, where a few guys were drinking a case of beer and playing crazy eights. They all had loopy smiles on their faces. Troy decided it was better not to ask. He continued walking around the house, which had become a complete zoo. Where were Sharpay's parents? This party was way out of control. Surely the police would come.

Sighing, he looked up at the clock. 9:58. And not a sign of Gabriella.

_I might as well just leave this stupid party,_ Troy thought with a sigh, and he was about to turn to the front door when his phone buzzed. He checked the caller ID—it was a restricted number.

"Might as well," he said aloud, and pressed the talk button on the cell phone. "Hello?"

A woman's voice was on the other end. "Hello, is this Troy Bolton?" the voice asked.

Who the heck? "Um, yes," Troy said slowly, settling down on one of the blue futon couches. "Who is this?"

"Hi Troy, this is Annette from St. Joseph's Medical Research Hospital," the woman spoke clearly into the phone. "I am very sorry to be bothering you at this time, but I must inform you your friend Gabriella had gotten into an accident and—"

"Wait a minute." Troy could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Gabriella?"

"Yes," Annette continued, her voice not pausing, "she's here at the hospital. She's in a coma."

Oh God, no. Troy nearly dropped the phone. Was this some kind of cruel prank? No, it couldn't be. Everything Annette had just told him was true—_his_ Gabriella was in the hospital.

"I'll be right over," he said into the phone, and took off out of the house without a goodbye. He'd left his EHS letter jacket on the sofa, but he didn't care.

When he arrived at St. Joseph's Hospital, parking his Hummer in the closest available spot there was, he ran into the building, startling a few passersby and an old woman in a wheelchair. The woman at the front desk eyed him suspiciously, as if he were a terrorist or something.

She lowered her cat-eye glasses. "Can I help you, sir?" she asked him.

Troy cleared his throat. "I'm here to see Gabriella Montez."

The front desk lady mumbled something Troy couldn't hear, and then began typing away on her Macintosh. She paused a moment, letting Troy's suspense build up, and then said slowly, "She's undergoing surgery right now. I am afraid you cannot see her."

What? Troy could not believe what he was hearing. Angry, he slammed his fist on the tile countertop. "I _have_ to see her, okay? I have to," he interjected.

The woman was calm. She probably dealt with these kinds of visitors every day. "Well, I'm sorry sir, but she's having an operation. You cannot see her until she is done."

Troy pounded his fist on the desk in anger. He could not believe he wouldn't be able to see her.

And then at that moment the doors flew open and in came a startled, blustery-looking Kelsi Neilson, followed by a young, pretty-looking woman. They both wore worried looks on their faces, but the woman accompanying Kelsi look like she'd been crying her eyes out.

Kelsi noticed Troy standing at the front desk, and her eyes lit up. "Troy!" she called, waving.

"Kelsi!" Troy bolted away from the desk and gave his friend a big hug. He'd known Kelsi since before kindergarten, when they'd met in Mrs. Murillo's class in preschool. Though they were never really friends until that fateful day at the winter musical auditions, when Kelsi tripped over her piano stool and Troy went over to help her up, they always still had their doubts about each other. When Kelsi offered to let Troy—and Gabriella—practice with her for the callbacks, their friendship grew. Soon Kelsi Neilson found herself hanging with someone as cool as Troy Bolton, and Troy liked having a smart, shy, funny person as one of his friends.

The girl standing behind Kelsi sniffled a little bit, and then said aloud, "Hey, you're Troy Bolton, right?"

Suddenly Troy found himself blushing. This girl was really pretty, even though she was probably like five years older than him. He stiffened and nodded his head. "Um. Yeah."

She smiled, a really nice smile, Troy thought. Kelsi cleared her throat and whispered, "Uh, Troy, I'd like you to meet my sister, Karyanne. And Kar, this is—"

"Troy Bolton, I know." Karyanne was pumping Troy's fist up and down excitedly, the smile grinning on her face. "I read all about you in the local newspaper. Most valuable player, huh? That's great. You know, my fiancé Steve plays basketball too. And god, he watches it like _all the time_. His favorite team is the Kings. You know, from Sacramento? He can't miss a single game on TV. He's, like, obsessed. You know how you basketball people are." She winked at Troy. Kelsi wondered if her sister was feeling lightheaded. What happened to the crying, weeping sister that was sobbing the whole way to the hospital?

Immediately Troy felt a rush of shame—this girl was already engaged, and she was Kelsi's _sister_. He felt like slapping himself. Instead he managed a weak smile and a fake chuckle, and did not say anything at all.

Kelsi shrugged, looking down to the ceramic tile floor. "Um, Troy, have you seen Gabriella yet?"

Troy, sighing, shook his head. "No. She's having surgery. They won't even let us go up yet," he grunted, glaring at the woman behind the front desk.

"Oh." Kelsi frowned. She'd wanted to see her friend just as much as Troy did.

Just then Karyanne nudged her in the shoulder. "Hey. What's got you down in the dumps, sis?"

For a moment Kelsi glared rudely at her sister, who had not a clue what was going on. "You tell me," she snapped bitterly, not caring what her sister would think.

Offended, Karyanne took a step back. "Well jeez. It's not as if I did anything."

Kelsi sighed. "Okay, okay. Yeah, you didn't. It's just—wait, how come you're not all sad anymore?" She looked up into her sister's round eyes.

"Crying and pouting is useless," Karyanne shrugged, as if nothing ever happened.

Then Kelsi felt a small smile creep out onto her face. She double-checked to see if no one was looking—Troy had gone to the front desk again to inquire about his seeing Gabriella—and when no one was, she started to laugh. She didn't know why; she just did. And it made Karyanne laugh too. Soon the girls were smiling and cracking up, right there in the lobby of St. Joseph's Hospital, with everyone staring at them. They didn't care much.

Finally Karyanne stopped laughing and asked, grinning widely, "So why are we laughing again?"

"I don't know." Kelsi smiled. "I just felt like it."

Her sister shrugged, collapsing down onto an empty nearby seat and fanning herself with her hand. "You know, Kels, I just realized something. Whether Steve becomes a jerk like my past boyfriends or not, I don't care. I love him and—and that's all that matters." She smiled, satisfied with her choice of words.

Kelsi was also impressed. "Wow," she remarked, settling down in a seat next to hers, "that's great."

Feeling content, Karyanne nodded. "Yes. I know," she replied, still pleased.

And then Troy appeared like a burst of magic out of nowhere, with a worried expression on his face. He stood in front of them, dropping his arms down to his sides. "They said we can see her now."


	5. pranks, pepsi, and organic vegetables

_author's note - _okay i knoew i haven't updated in forever. i'm really sorry .. this week was my last week of school and everything's been pretty hectic with graduation and all. plus hasn't been working. well i'm glad to say HERE I AM! and i hope you enjoy chapter five. it's pretty suspenseful. keep up the nice reviews!

warning: some minor cussing in this chapter. i hope you don't mind.

**Chapter Five – Pranks, Pepsi, and organic vegetables**

Meanwhile at the big Friday night party, Ryan Evans sat down at his desk in his big, uptight room. For a moment he looked around at his surroundings—Ryan's room was of big size, not as big as his sister's, but still pretty big, living-room size. He had a bunk bed off to one corner in which he slept at the top and his miniature schnauzer, Pepsi, at the bottom. Pepsi was so named because that was Ryan's favorite drink since he was little. He always drank it during rehearsals and at school. Today he lay on the bed lazily, his ears perked up and listening intently at all the party noise going on downstairs.

Ryan went over to the bed and scratched the dog's ears. "Aw, gee, Pepsi, I wish I could take you outside. But there's too much people down there and…" He grinned in spite of himself. "Heck, like you know what I'm saying."

The dog just stared at him, his ears still perked up. Ryan patted him again and went over to another corner of the room, where he had cans of Super-Strength dog chow stacked up neatly in a row. He opened up a can and handed it to Pepsi, who sniffed at it eagerly.

"Mmm," Ryan teased, holding the can under his dog's nose. "Smell's good, doesn't it?"

Pepsi responded by licking his fingers. Ryan laughed. "All right, all right." Slowly he poured the chow into a bowl and handed it to the dog, who immediately began eating it.

Suddenly there were some loud knocks on the door. Ryan, startled, went over to answer it. He was surprised to see that it was his own sister, Sharpay, whom he'd thought would be too busy at her little party to come in here and bother her brother.

Sharpay crossed her arms. "Ryan," she screeched, "where is he?"

For a moment Ryan stared at her, confused. "Who?"

"You know who." She sighed, rolling her eyes when her brother did not understand. "Troy."

"How should I know, Shar? Isn't he downstairs with you?"

Again Sharpay sighed, this time more softly. "No Ry," she repeated calmly, "he isn't. That's why I came up here, to see if he was hanging out with you. Apparently"—she looked around her brother's room sadly—"he isn't."

Ryan watched Pepsi lick the last of the remaining dog chow, then stared back up at Sharpay. "Well I don't know where he is. But I do think Zeke is looking for you…" he began slowly.

Furious, Sharpay stamped her foot. "No Ryan! I am _not_ looking for Zeke; I am looking for Troy! Where the hell has he gone?" she cried angrily.

_Whoa_. Ryan backed away; he had never seen his sister act like this before. "I don't know!" he retorted back. He definitely didn't want to mess with his sister right now.

Sharpay's eyes narrowed. Then, giving up, she sat down next to Pepsi on Ryan's bunk bed and began to complain. Moaning and groaning, she said, "He didn't even say goodbye! He just…left! Without even thanking me! What kind of person would _do_ such a thing!" She stomped her heel again.

Pepsi, who had finished with his dog chow, unexpectedly barked roughly at Sharpay, as if she was a stranger in this house. Sharpay ignored it, and went on talking. "I thought Troy had heart! I thought he wasn't—well, he isn't—like all those other guys like Chad and Zeke who are complete idiots with no manners or anything like that! I thought he was a real man! And yet he still proved me wrong by being such a godforsaken _jerk_—"

"No, no, Sharpay, he isn't." Ryan bent down to comfort his sister. He was a really supportive brother, after all. "Maybe he had been looking for you but couldn't find you, so he left. Or maybe something came up, something really urgent, like uh…a family emergency or something. Maybe that explains why he just left." He shrugged.

Finally Sharpay gave in. "All right," she admitted, "maybe. But still, how could he just _leave_ like that?" She sighed, scratching a part of her very blonde head. She'd been preparing for this night all week just to impress Troy, but he wasn't even here to see anything anymore. She was disappointed.

They sat there for a minute or two in silence, watching Pepsi trying to nudge open a sealed can of dog chow and reminiscing. Ryan wondered if his dog would really be able to open the can. Sharpay wondered if Troy was ever going to come back to her party. Where had he gone?

And just as she was thinking this, her cell phone rang. She reached down inside her purse to answer it on the third ring. "Sharpay speaking," she said into the receiver.

"Go outside," said the all too familiar deep voice on the other end. It was her prankster again.

Sharpay sighed into the phone. "Look, kid, I don't know who you are, but this is really stupid. Can you just go away and leave me alone?" she said, irritated.

The voice wasn't laughing. "This isn't a prank," it said. "Go outside, all of you, or face the consequences."

Ha. Sharpay couldn't help but laugh. Ryan stared curiously at her. "Are you like, an alien or something? What are you going to do, burn my house?" she snorted sarcastically.

After along pause, the voice finally spoke. "I warned you," it said all too seriously, and then the receiver clicked again and the phone line was dead. Sharpay had to admit, it did sound kind of creepy.

Ryan raised an eyebrow, his face looking concerned. "Who was that?" he asked.

"Oh, just some stupid prankster trying to ruin my party, as usual." Sharpay sighed deeply, pushing her phone back into her pocket. She still could not believe this was happening to her—Troy had left, and now some idiot was calling her and telling her to leave the house.

Still feeling a little bit protective, Ryan put an arm around his distressed sister. "Everything's going to be all right, Shar, I just know it," he said wisely. "Now c'mon, get back downstairs to your party. You are, after all, the hostess." He managed a weak smile.

"Yeah, but there's no guest of honor," Sharpay muttered, her mind still on Troy. Sniffling, she stood up in her little skirt and eyed her brother carefully. "You're not going to join me?"

"Nah," Ryan replied, grinning, "I got stuff to do up here." He nodded at Pepsi, the dog.

"Okay then." Sharpay nodded, turned on her heels and strutted to the door. She was just about to pull it open when she sniffed something.

She turned to Ryan, her nose in the air. "Ry, do you smell that?" she asked him.

Ryan paused a moment to sniff the air. He made a face. "Yeah, what is that?"

And then there were screams coming from downstairs. Ryan and Sharpay rushed outside to see what was going on, and it was horrible indeed.

The whole living room was on fire. Couches flaming, the TV had exploded into more flames, and smoke was rising in the air. To make matters worse, the whole kitchen was aflame. Everyone was running out from the den, screaming. They gathered together in the front lawn, a huge mess of crying and screaming students, watching the house burn.

Sharpay started to scream. "He was fucking serious!" she yelled.

Ryan rushed over, calming her down. Together they dodged the fire and got out safely. Everyone else was outside in the lawn, a mob of frightened faces, wondering what just happened. They stared at the flames in awe.

"What the _fuck_!" Ryan yelled.

No one spoke. Everyone was dead silent, watching the fire, which made the only sound besides Sharpay's screaming and the sounds of a few girls sobbing. And then there were sirens, loud and echoing through the night. _The police,_ Ryan thought in horror.

There were two fire trucks blasting their sirens, followed by the white police cars. Instantly everyone backed away to let the firefighters through. They began hosing everything down and using extinguishers.

Meanwhile the cops came out of their cars, holding their guns out. They maneuvered around the frozen crowd, pointing their guns and shouting. "Nobody move!" shouted a female cop. A few guys dropped their beer bottles.

The lady cop came up to Ryan and Sharpay. "What happened here?" she barked at them.

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He was mouthing his words. The cop raised an eyebrow. And then Sharpay, who had stopped screaming, finally spoke.

"Um, I got this weird call from this prankster, Officer," she said quietly. "He said for everyone to get out of the house, or face the consequences. He didn't say what he would do. He called twice, ma'm. I thought it was a joke, until after the second call, the house just...I smelled the smoke, but I didn't think…" She bit her lip awkwardly. Ryan gaped at her, wondering why she hadn't told him about this.

The cop was taking notes on a pad of paper. She lowered her eyes at Sharpay. "And you say this prankster called you _twice_, Miss?" she asked.

Sharpay just nodded.

The cop sighed, shaking her head. "Stupid teen parties," she muttered. "They always get so wild and out of control, and then either someone gets shot or someone gets locked in the closet with no air…but a _fire_? My God." She turned to face Ryan and Sharpay. "It might have been a smoking accident, are you sure?" They nodded, almost certain. No one smoked at Sharpay's party.

Sighing, the lady cop turned to the crowd of partygoers, young adults that went to East High.

"Okay," she called out, "so who started this?"

Again no one said a word. They were all too shocked to speak. The lady cop sighed again, this time more loudly, and told the other cops to lower their guns. They did, reluctantly. Then they told everyone to go home; this party was officially over. Investigators were called to the scene, and Ryan and Sharpay's house was totally blocked off.

Standing huddled together in the front yard, Ryan and Sharpay stayed close to one another. Sharpay was bawling, her face streaked with shiny tears and sweat. "Ryan, I'm scared," she mumbled.

Ryan gave his sister a hug and she cried some more into his shirt. "Me too, Shar," he whispered back. The truth was, he was more than frightened. "Who would do such a thing?"

"An idiot, that's who," Sharpay sobbed into his shirt.

The lady officer walked up to them, her notepad in hand. She coughed barely. "We still don't know who's behind this," she said, coughing amid all the smoke, "but for now, your house is under total lockdown. We'll be contacting your parents."

At this Ryan and Sharpay bit their lips—Mr. and Mrs. Evans were out of town for the month, on some business trip. If they found out that their children had thrown a wild party and burnt the house while they were gone, they would go ballistic. But what other choice did Ryan and Sharpay have?

"Anyway," the officer continued, "we'll have to place you somewhere else, while your parents still aren't here. I don't have any available contacts right now—do you two mind staying at a friend's, for the time being?"

A friend's? Ryan and Sharpay looked at each other, stunned. Who would offer to house them—the Ice Queen and King of East High? Who would want to live with _them_?

"It won't be for a long time, we hope," added the lady cop hesitantly. "Just until we sort this whole prank thing out. It's dead serious to start a fire on purpose, rather than on accident."

Ryan nodded. He didn't really agree with this plan, but there was nobody else to stay with. Grandma Evans was all the way in Australia, and all their aunts and uncles lived in the East Coast. A friend's place was the only choice left.

Sighing, he turned to see Pepsi, his dog, crawling out from behind the bushes. He bent down and patted him on the head. "Hey, Peps. God, I almost forgot you didn't I? Good thing you made it out okay." He scooped the dog in his arms. Sharpay, who was busy chatting with the lady cop, didn't seem to notice. Ryan sighed and reached into his pocket to find an extra scrap of dog chow inside. He fed it to Pepsi, who licked it hungrily.

"Do you know anybody we can live with, Pepsi?" he mumbled. As usual, the dog didn't respond.

Ryan sighed, watching the other cops and crime scene investigators doing their jobs, circling the house for evidence. Which they would never find.

"Everything is getting so crazy," he said quietly to himself. The distant voices of Sharpay and the female cop's were getting nearer, and he went off to join them. After all, even through a huge crisis like this, it was always best to never be alone.

----

_I feel like everything is going so out of control,_ Taylor McKessie wrote in her online journal. _With what's been happening, and everything. Like the world just suddenly stopped turning_. _Like the sun burned out. I feel like…the world is already coming to an end. And I've never felt so alone, especially in these great times of need._

Sighing, Taylor shut her laptop and lay down on her bed. It was a warm Friday night, even if it was September. She had the air conditioner on, but she was still sweating like crazy. She sat up and decided to treat herself to some mocha ice cream.

Turning on the lights as she went downstairs, she still felt so alone, like she was locked in. That night she had the house all to herself, since her parents were out at a dinner party. Taylor, like Gabriella, was an only child, and she'd quickly learned to take care of herself. She was a good girl—her parents trusted her. She got good grades, was active in the school decathlon, participated in some clubs, and was a talented singer and dancer. She even did some yoga in her spare time. There was nothing Taylor's parents couldn't _not_ trust her with. She was so _good_.

Entering the kitchen, she flicked on the lights and dug into the refrigerator for a carton of ice cream. No such luck. Her dad had probably already finished the whole thing. Taylor sighed, looking around the kitchen for something else to eat. There was practically nothing in the fridge, except a can of imported tofu and some greasy-looking fries.

_I'll just have to order something,_ Taylor decided, picking up the phone and dialing Happy Wok Chinese Food. She would just order some takeout.

Shoot. Taylor slammed down the phone, glancing up at the clock. It was already 9:47. Happy Wok wouldn't be open this late. Nothing would.

Taylor sighed, leaning against the counter. Then she had an idea. _I'll make something_. But what? She grabbed some ingredients from the pantry—cornbread, frozen carrots, and a can of organic peas—and tossed them in the microwave. Then she boiled some water and dumped a few chicken legs inside. They started sizzling to perfection. Out of curiosity she sprinkled some spices she'd found in her mother's cabinet and added a few green leaves. When the chicken was done, she set it on a plate next to the cornbread, carrots, and peas. She glanced at her meal. It actually looked pretty appetizing.

Smiling to herself, she took the steamy plate and went in front of the television, wondering what would be on at this hour. She switched from channel to channel before eating her food. The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. _Nah._ Fear Factor. _Ew._ The Suite Life of Zack and Cody. _Alright…_

And then the doorbell rang.

Taylor jumped in her seat. Who would come to the house at this hour? Surely not her parents; they would probably come home around after one, at the earliest. She went to the door and peeked through the little hole. To her surprise, it was Chad. What was he doing here? Taylor wondered. Why wasn't he at Sharpay's party?

Her heart stared to race. _What am I going to say? _She opened the door, slowly. "Chad! Um, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice soft.

Chad was looking quite handsome in his Nike t-shirt and baggy South Pole jeans, his hair bouncy and an old pair of Vans as his shoes. He cleared his throat. "Uh…you heard about what happened at Sharpay's party, right?"

"Um, no." She stepped to the side to allow some room. "Come inside, it's chilly out there."

There was a small smile on Chad's face as he entered the house. "Something smells good," he remarked, sniffing the air.

Taylor turned scarlet. "Uh…sorry, that's my dinner," she muttered, shutting the front door.

Chad looked at the TV show she was watching. He smiled in spite of himself. "You watch Disney channel?" he asked lightly.

"Uh." Taylor felt so stupid just standing there in her sweats. She scratched the back of her head, embarrassed. Chad was watching her. She managed a weak smile. "Um…who doesn't?"

Chad began to laugh. This was the Taylor he had missed, the Taylor who was always making up excuses, the Taylor who was so organized it killed him, but he loved it anyway. This was the Taylor he'd been missing.

Still grinning, he changed the subject. "Yeah, so some dummy set fire to Sharpay's house," he said quietly, settling down on the couch while Taylor ran to the kitchen to get him something to eat. "What an idiot, huh? The police came and told us all to go home. I wanted to stop by and…check up on you, Tay."

Taylor couldn't help but smile. She handed him a bag of potato chips and a soda and sat down on the couch next to him. She had to admit, she missed Chad and his adorable sense of humor.

She watched Chad sip quietly at his soda and replied ever so softly, "Thanks, Chad. Really." She beamed up at him.

"It's no big," he said casually. Then he turned his steady gaze to Taylor. "I mean, that's what we boyfriends are supposed to do, right? Stick up for their girls. Watch them, protect them, take care of them." He smiled bluntly.

"Love them," Taylor murmured to herself, but Chad heard.

He put down his drink and cupped Taylor's face in his big hands. He said in a careful, shaky voice, "Taylor. I _do_ love you. You know that, don't you?"

She didn't say anything, just looked down to the hardwood floor; ashamed she'd even spoken.

Chad sighed loudly, running a hand through his tangled hair. "Taylor, I was just trying to give you some space. You were really troubled and distressed, I—didn't know what else to do. Gabriella was right; maybe I should have come to you sooner. But I'm here now, aren't I? Isn't that enough for you?"

Suddenly he stood up, slightly starting Taylor. She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. He stared back at her, his eyes cold. _This isn't supposed to happen,_ Taylor thought, the tears stinging in her eyes as she tried to hold them back. Chad walked briskly to the front door and threw it open. "Obviously not," he said in a grave voice, turning to face the door. "I guess this wasn't meant to be, huh?" His eyes were really angry.

"Chad, no, I—" Taylor pleaded, suddenly on her feet.

"What, Taylor?" Chad yelled back, his eyes cold and full of anger. "What is it?"

Taylor found herself afraid to speak. This was not that Chad she'd known all this time—lovable, funny, humorous Chad. This was Chad, the monster. He'd changed, and they both knew it.

Chad stepped outside into the cold, gray night. Taylor was screaming for him to come back. She fell to her knees, crying, unable to speak. This was not supposed to happen, she thought wildly. This can't be happening, not now.

"You have nothing to say to me, huh?" Chad finally spoke, turning his head to the gray sky. He couldn't force himself to look at Taylor; it was too painful. There was nothing else to do, but… "Then I guess this is goodbye," he heard himself say, his lips forming the words and saying them aloud. This was finally goodbye. The end.

And then he turned around, his ears ringing with the sound of Taylor's voice, and shutting the door, he walked down the front path and left. The sky had turned a deep, dark gray now; the first sign of a rainstorm. He hurried to his car without looking back.

And as Taylor watched him through the open window, her face streamed with tears, her eyes bloodshot red, she tried so hard to remember what just happened. It was all a big blur, like the sound of Chad's car as it drove away without turning. She tried to remember everything, paint a picture in her head. Her thoughts were as clouded up as the graying sky. She had a weird feeling—a mixed, light, floating feeling, like she had suddenly been just set free.


	6. new feelings

_author's note: _hey everyone! once again, I am really sorry for not updating in a while. Things have been really busy lately. So I hope you enjoy this latest chapter! please keep reviewing they make me want to update sooner.

**Chapter Six – New Feelings**

"Gabriella…" Troy echoed, his fingers gently brushing against Gabriella's arm. Behind him, Kelsi stood closely to her sister, biting her lip.

Troy suddenly turned around, a sad smile on his face. There were tears in his huge round eyes. "It's okay, Kels. You can see her," he said softly, nodding at her. She managed a weak smile.

The truth was, Kelsi was afraid. She hadn't been in a hospital since her nana died when she was 13 years old. She was scared now, afraid…what if the same thing happened to Gabriella? She wondered. No. It couldn't happen—Gabriella was only 17.

Shyly, bravely, she stepped forward to the bed. She was afraid of seeing Gabriella's cold, lifeless face—the same face that her dying nana had. _Gabriella doesn't deserve to be in the hospital_, she thought. _She's so young; she has a whole life ahead of her._ Worried, she glanced back at Karyanne, her sister, who was behind her staring with wide-open eyes. "Go," she mouthed, and Kelsi took another step forward to gaze upon her friend Gabriella's face.

The young girl was a sorry sight indeed. She had tubes hooked up to her arms and face, and her eyes were closed. Still, she looked like the same Gabriella that Kelsi had known all these years…innocent, sweet, beautiful. A girl like this didn't deserve to be in the hospital.

"Oh," Kelsi breathed slowly. She drew in a sharp breath and looked at Troy. He smiled, sadly. Instantly Kelsi felt a pang of guilt. She would hate to be in Troy's shoes. Gabriella was the love of his _life_.

"Hey, Gabi," said Kelsi softly, staring upon her friend's pale white face. For a moment she wondered what it would be like to be in a coma, but then she realized she didn't really want to know. _If Gabi wakes up, _she thought, _I'll ask her if she remembers._ Suddenly she felt stupid. _What do you mean "if" she wakes up?_

The nurse, a short blonde woman with her hair in neat curls, came inside, her clipboard in hand. She scribbled some notes and then sighed, shaking her head. Troy turned on her. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked quickly, his voice tense and uneasy.

The nurse tapped the edge of the clipboard with her long nails. Her name was April, Kelsi read from the nurse's blue St. Joseph's nametag. "You know, I think she is. Miss"—Nurse April looked down at her clipboard for a brief moment—"Montez is actually quite healthy. She's going to be fine, I'm sure. She just…might be in the hospital with us for some time." She shook her head again. "Comas take a while to awaken. But I'm sure we'll heal her soon."

Troy sighed and leaned back against a chair, his face hot and sweaty. Kelsi bit her lip and glanced over at Karyanne, who was staring intently at the nurse. Suddenly Gabriella, lying on the bed, made a sharp squeaky sound and her mouth looked like it was trying to move.

Nurse April turned her head and looked at Gabriella; Troy was standing now. "What was that?" he asked. "Is she trying to talk?"

"No, no," said the nurse, adding some notes to her clipboard. "It's just the breathing." She sighed and taking one last look at Gabriella, she turned toward the door to leave. "She'll be okay," she said reassuringly when Troy looked at her. "Her surgery earlier was successful, according to my records. But unfortunately, she'll be with us for a while. May even take a few months…like I said, comas take a while to awaken. But I have hope for her." She smiled sadly at Gabriella. "She's a _really_ beautiful girl."

"Yeah," said Troy heavily. "She is."

The nurse nodded and left, taking slow steps. For a minute Troy, Kelsi, and Karyanne stood there in silence, watching poor Gabriella lying unconsciously on her bed. Troy reached over and took a hold of her frail, limp hand and squeezed it tightly. He prayed for a miracle. He just wanted her _back_, alive more than ever. He silently cursed the crazy driver that had crashed into Gabriella's car.

Kelsi took careful steps until she was beside Troy. Slowly but surely, she took his hand into hers. He looked up and smiled—a real, dazzling smile, Kelsi knew. She could never have him for herself. All she wanted was for Troy to be happy…that was all she'd ever wanted.  
----

Zeke grinned as widely as he could. He opened up his arms. "Of _course_ you guys can stay with me!" he cried excitedly, opening the front door a little wider to let Ryan and Sharpay inside.

Sharpay rolled her eyes and glanced at her brother, who laughed.

The truth was, Sharpay's friends didn't have any room for her and her brother to stay for the time being, so they had no other choice but to go to Zeke's. Everyone else that knew Sharpay pretty much disliked her, and Ryan was too weird. There was no way the two could stay anywhere, but Zeke's.

Sharpay had wanted to stay with Troy, but he wasn't at home when they visited. _Where could he possibly be, without Chad and the other basketball drones?_ she thought, stepping inside Zeke's spacious living room. She didn't have any luggage—most of it had gone in the fire—so she had nothing to carry. Ryan was still holding his stupid dog, whatever the mutt's name was.

Zeke eyed the dog carefully. "Uh, my mom's kind of afraid of dogs," he said awkwardly, petting Pepsi on the head. "But he looks nice."

Ryan laughed. "Zeke, this is Pepsi. He's a mini schnauzer." He scratched behind the dog's ears. "Isn't he cute? God, he's super-nice, your mom has nothing to worry about. Pepsi doesn't bite, do you Peps?" The dog barked playfully.

Zeke also laughed and led them upstairs to the guest room. There were two neatly made king-sized beds, each facing a lengthy mirror that held an amazing view of the city. There was a mini fridge filled with snacks, a microwave, and a flat-screen TV hung from the wall. Even a Dell laptop rested on a table in the corner. "Sorry we only have one room," Zeke said shyly as Ryan and Sharpay entered.

"Are you kidding me?" Sharpay gawked at him, admiring the huge walk-in closet. "This is amazing!"

He laughed heartily, leaning against the wall. "Don't you guys have this stuff too?" he asked them.

Ryan jumped on the bed, laughing. "Yeah," he said, "but not like _this_!" He turned on the TV and watched some news. Meanwhile Pepsi was relaxing on the leather couch.

"Where do you get all this money?" Sharpay asked Zeke.

He shrugged. "My dad's a world-class chef. He's like, one of the legends. Ever heard of Chef Zach?" When Sharpay didn't reply, he went on. "Yeah, um, he's always on those cooking specials on the Food Network." He scratched his head, wanting to say something that could _impress_ Sharpay.

"Well now we know where talent like yours comes from, right?" asked Ryan with a grin.

Zeke couldn't help but smile. He wished Sharpay had said that. "Yeah, uh…yeah, my dad taught me everything I know about…you know, baking." He grinned in spite of himself.

Sharpay and Ryan continued to explore the room, and Zeke went downstairs to get them something to eat. He knew how tired they were—especially poor Sharpay, who looked half starved to death. Her party hadn't turned out the way she thought. _Poor Shar,_ he thought sadly as he grilled some chicken. Tonight would be the night he would show her he really _was_ something.

Adding some spices and tossing in some corn-on-the-cob, Zeke began to sing. He hummed something along the lines of, "I gotta get my, get my head in the game…" He placed the chicken neatly on a plate and brought it up to the room.

The TV was still on and Ryan was already asleep, his head drooping onto the pillow next to his tiny dog. Sharpay was brushing her long, silky blonde hair, her face streaked with tears. She could not believe this was happening…that she was _here_, in Zeke's house of all places, and that her own home—along with all her prized possessions—had burned to the ground. She could not believe Troy wasn't even _there_ to comfort poor Sharpay. What kind of guy did he think he was, to just leave her party like that, without a goodbye?

Again she felt the tears of confusion and anger streaming down her face. Suddenly she felt a soft hand wipe them away, and she turned to see Zeke standing behind her, looking awfully pained to see her crying. She had to admit, Zeke looked a little more handsome standing there beside her, and it was nice.

"Zeke," whispered Sharpay, watching him. "Wh-What are you…?"

He reluctantly set the plate of food on the bedside table next to her. "I brought you something to eat, and I—I'm sorry I didn't knock; I knew I should've…" He trailed off, looking guilty and embarrassed.

Sharpay smiled a real smile. "I—no, it's okay—thanks, Zeke," she said, truly meaning it.

Zeke grinned and Sharpay just noticed how amazingly _cute_ his smile was.

Suddenly Ryan jerked awake in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open like he'd just awoken from a bad dream. He saw the two of them—Zeke and Sharpay—sitting so close to one another, and said, "Um, and I missing something here or are you two—"

"What?" Sharpay backed away from Zeke, carefully. "Um, no, we were just…"

Zeke didn't say anything but looked down at his feet.

Ryan scooted closer to the table, sniffing the air. "Hey, where'd you get the food, Shar?" he asked hungrily.

"Ah, I made that for her," said Zeke awkwardly.

For a moment Sharpay's brother looked at him, his eyes barrowing malevolently, but then he smiled. He socked Zeke gently in the arm and whispered, "You going for the kill?"

Confused, Zeke just stared at him. "I…what?" he asked.

Ryan grinned again and nodded at Sharpay, who was wiping the tears from her face and eating her small but delicious dinner. Zeke got the message and smiled in spite of himself. It was true Sharpay was plain hard to get, but he knew somehow he would get through to her, of he tried really hard. Sometimes he even wondered why he wanted someone like Sharpay, so vicious and cold…but he knew that with a little time and effort, he could soften her up.

After a few minutes Sharpay finished her dinner and sleepy Ryan fell back in a doze. Zeke offered to clean up, taking Sharpay's plate with him before heading downstairs.

"Uh, goodnight then, Sharpay," Zeke mumbled.

Sharpay smiled back at him before settling into her soft, warm bed. He was really a nice guy, and she wondered why she hadn't taken the time to realize this before. Weird as he was, Zeke could be a really good person, despite his awkward silences and unusual friendliness towards everyone. Plus, he was on the basketball team, and he was popular. _We could work out,_ she thought.

Zeke grinned and closed the door to their room, wishing he could have kissed Sharpay that night. But no, he knew it would have to wait. He would give it time. He'd been waiting for this his whole life, since he first laid eyes on Sharpay Evans.

Meanwhile inside the room, Sharpay gave a happy, satisfied smile and settled onto her pillow. Thoughts of her and Zeke floated through her mind. Suddenly she sat up, horrified with this. _How could I be in love with _Zeke she thought, _when it is _Troy Bolton_ that I love?_ No way. It was just her mind messing with her again. She loved Troy, not that little ignorant _shrimp_ Zeke, the basketball freak.

Besides, there was no way she could possibly change her mind about Troy Bolton. Satisfied with her decision, Sharpay settled back onto her pillow. There was no way she loved anyone else, dreamed of anyone else other that Troy.

Right?


	7. Taylor's Secret

_author's note - _hey, everyone. thanks for all the nice reviews. they are, after all, what makes me keep going. Okay well in this chapter you'll find out the truth about Taylor .. which is indeed very shocking.enjoy!

**Chapter Seven – Taylor's Secret**

The weekend passed in a blur of frequent hospital visits, basketball, cooking, studying, and just hanging out, relaxing. Soon Troy, Kelsi, Taylor, Zeke, and Sharpay and Ryan found themselves back on the campus of East High School. Finals were coming up, and their teachers were giving them packet after packet of review questions for the test. Troy had never felt so worked up in his life.

He devoted all his free time after studying to visit Gabriella in the hospital. He kept getting yelled at by his dad—the basketball coach—for missing practice, but Coach Bolton understood. He knew how much his son loved this girl, and he didn't want to ruin it for them. Instead, he moved practices to an earlier time so that Troy could visit his girlfriend in the late afternoons.

School for Troy Bolton was as empty as space without Gabriella. When he walked in the hallways, people smiling and waving at him…he never felt the same because Gabriella was never among those people. Instead, she lay on a hospital bed, unconscious. Nobody except Kelsi knew about what had happened. Troy wouldn't risk rumors flying everywhere, but people were already wondering.

He heard whispers of, "Did you hear that Gabriella Montez got suspended?" or "Nah, I heard she moved back to California!" But nobody knew the _real_ truth, and no one would ever know. It could ruin Gabriella's life, and her reputation.

But on Thursday, Gabriella's best friend Taylor McKessie went up to Troy during lunch and asked him the question Troy knew she would be asking him, eventually.

"Where is Gabriella?" she sniffed. "I haven't seen her all week."

Troy ignored her and took a sip of juice. He scanned the cafeteria and suddenly wondered where his best friend was. Chad hadn't been seen all week either.

Taylor waved a hand in front of him. "Um, did you not hear the question?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did." He bit his lip. "But first, where's your boyfriend?"

For a moment she looked at him, confused as ever. "My boy—" And then her eyes widened as large as craters and Troy saw tears lurking in them. She leapt away, wiping her eyes, and ran from the cafeteria, sobbing. Luckily no one noticed; they were all too busy enjoying their lunches.

Immediately Troy ran after her, wondering what he had just said to offend her, and saw her head into the girls' bathroom. "Wait, Taylor!" he cried, pounding on the door. He wanted to go inside.

_Oh, what the hell_, he thought bitterly, and pushed open the door. There were no other girls in there, thankfully. Troy tried his best to ignore the fact that he was actually _in here_ and banged on the bright red stalls. "Taylor!" he shouted, though he knew she could hear him perfectly.

He turned around and there she was, wiping her face with her hands in front of the bathroom sinks. Her eyes were bloodshot red from crying. Troy wondered, _what did I do?_ But before he could open his mouth, she already asked him, "What are you doing in _here_?"

"Uh." He bit his lip and leaned awkwardly against the wall. Jeez, girls' bathrooms are really roomy. "I wanted to know what was up. Why are you crying? I was just asking you where Chad was."

Taylor turned around and stared at her reflection in the mirror while covering her ears. "God, _don't_ even say his name," she muttered. She appreciated Troy's efforts of trying to help her out, but could she really trust him? And where was Gabriella when she needed her?

They stood there, facing each other in an awkward silence, until Troy finally spoke. "All right, you're her best friend, you ought to know. Gabriella's in…uh, she's in the hospital. She got in a major car accident and…she's in a coma right now," he finished, his face burning. He really did not want to talk about this, about Gabriella.

Taylor's jaw dropped in horror. "What?" she gasped. "Why didn't they tell me? Why didn't—"

"Kelsi and I are the only ones who know," Troy choked out, his voice painfully hurting. "You can't tell _anyone_, Taylor, not even Chad. We can't risk people knowing about this."

She looked down to the dirty tile floor, fuming. She could not believe this. Why did Troy have to wait until this moment to tell her about this? She had a right to know; she was Gabriella's best friend! How could Troy have told _Kelsi_ before herself? It was unfair. But then again…she realized she'd been avoiding Troy the whole week in fear of him asking her where Chad was, when she didn't know. There was no way he could tell her about Gabriella's condition if she'd been avoiding him.

Finally she decided it was time she'd let _someone_ know, even if it was the lunkhead basketball star Troy Bolton. "You don't have to worry about that," she said quietly.

"Why not?" Troy raised an eyebrow.

"Because…Chad and I broke up," she whispered, and then broke out into sobs once more. Troy immediately rushed to give her a comforting hug and let her cry on his shoulder. He listened as she quickly explained the whole story to him. She told him about Chad walking out on her, the shouting, and the sobbing…but, in the end, Troy had to admit it was quite a lot for Taylor to deal with.

"But what was it that you couldn't tell him?" he asked curiously.

Taylor bit her lip and turned red. She'd finished crying, but now her voice broke out into little hiccups. She wasn't sure if this was the right thing to do. Could she even _trust_ him? Yes, she convinced herself, she could. _If Gabriella can_, she thought, _then I could too_. "Troy…" She felt her voice breaking, the silent tears falling from her eyes again. He looked at her, uneasy. She wanted to melt and die. "Troy…this is serious," she finally whispered.

He just stared back at her, confused. She felt like throwing up. Her words stayed in her mouth, ready to spill out, but she was unsure how.

"What, Taylor?" Troy wanted to know so badly.

She didn't say anything at first, but looked down at the ground.

"Troy, I'm pregnant."

---

Chad Danforth was sick. Not just sick with the flu, but sick of life. He was sick of _it_, of everything—of friends, family, school, parties, basketball, and love. He wanted to curl up and die. He would rather live in heaven; away from all his family and friends…because where he was right now, was hell.

He angrily chucked a basketball at his wall, watching it thump against the wall. He was supposed to be in school right now, but that was the least place he wanted to be. Actually, he would rather be _anywhere_ than East High, even if he was stuck at home with his mom bothering him. He didn't know how long it would last, but he was thankful he had the flu. He would stay cooped up in his room forever if he had to.

The door swung open and in bustled his mother, carrying a tray of hot soup and whistling. She set the tray down on Chad's bedside table and smiled at him. "How is my sick little man today?" she asked.

He disappeared under his pillow. "Go away, Mom," he mumbled.

"Oh, but I have lunch for you," she crooned. "Chad. Get out from under there and eat; you're sick like a dog. You want to get better and go back to school, right?"

"Uh, I guess," he lied. _No._

Mrs. Danforth tapped the table impatiently. "Then eat." She turned to leave, but before going she added, "Oh, and I almost forgot. While you were asleep last night, your friend called."

Chad almost hit himself on the headboard, sitting up eagerly. "Yeah? Who?" he asked excitedly.

"What was his name again?" Mrs. Danforth looked down to her toes. "Um…Shania? Sharissa? No, it sounded like _Sharpie_…"

Chad's jaw dropped. "_Sharpay?_" he gasped, flailing his arms and almost knocking down his bowl of soup.

"There!" Mrs. Danforth cried triumphantly. "Miss Sharpay. She asked oh-so-politely if you could do a thoughtful favor for her, something like that…she's a really sweet girl, isn't she?" Chad's mom smiled.

_Yeah, and so is a mountain lion,_ thought her bushy-haired son sarcastically. He wondered how Sharpay Evans even got a hold of his number. It wasn't like he put it in the Yellow Pages or something. Did she snag it from Troy? Was her brother Ryan a stalker in gym class? His gaze froze in terror at all the possibilities. He knew Sharpay was pure evil.

Finally he sputtered, "Uh, Mom, did Sharpay leave any number for me to call?"

Mrs. Danforth shook her head.

Chad sighed as she left, collapsing back onto his bed. How was he supposed to respond to Sharpay's message? He knew he couldn't call her house—it was probably pretty much burned right now. Where could she be? Suddenly, like a light bulb, it hit him. Sharpay wanted to know if she and her brother could stay at his house, at least until theirs was restored.

_No way,_ he thought immediately, frowning. _No way am I going to allow _her_ in this house._

He wondered, for a moment, where she was staying. At a friend's? No. Sharpay and Ryan didn't _have_ friends; they had admirers and haters. A relative's, maybe? Did they even have relatives in New Mexico?

He closed his eyes, not wanting to think of nasty Sharpay Evans at the moment. He let his mind drift. Soon he found himself dreaming of basketball, and then, for some reason, cheerleaders. He thought of cheering and singing and dancing…Taylor liked to dance.

Abruptly he sat up, confused at his thoughts. _Taylor_? Why was he thinking about Taylor? He'd tried and tried to convince himself he didn't even care about that stony-faced brainy girl anymore; he'd gotten over her. Ever since that fateful day when something in his head told him that it was the end, he'd been trying and trying to clear his mind of any thoughts and memories of her. It worked—at least for a little while.

And here he was, alone and sick in bed, thinking about Taylor again, for the first time in what seemed like a long time. He admitted to himself that he sort of _missed_ her. Her laugh, her voice, her beautiful smile. The way she used to give him longing looks of love and deep concern. He missed everything they used to share. But now, he thought coldly, it could never happen. And it was his entire fault.

Later that day, after hours of sleeping and eating, Chad finally felt better. The swelling and aching all over his body had stopped, and the headache was decreasing. He wanted to go out for a run.

He put on his running shoes and comfortable clothing, bringing his iPod Nano along with him. "Mom, I'm going out," he called as he raced through the door before she could respond. He ran along the neighborhood, turning up the tunes as he went. He paced himself even farther, past the community park where kids were riding their bikes, past his school, farther and farther. It was at the interstate when he stopped and turned around, taking a different route this time. He raced through the paved streets of Albuquerque. He tried different neighborhoods, going past several houses, until he soon found himself in front of Taylor McKessie's.

_God,_ he thought bitterly, _what am I doing here?_ He stared up at the small two-story house, with its familiar brick-layered rooftop and tall chimney sticking out from the top. Taylor's car, an old sports Sedan, was parked neatly in the driveway. He bit his lip and stared at it, his mind erupting inside of him, filling with questions. Was she inside?

Suddenly Chad heard a small but audible cough coming from out of the blue. He looked directly above him, only to find Taylor McKessie herself staring back down at him from her place on the patio. Her eyes looked blurred—probably from crying—and her face was an unusual pale color, like she'd been throwing up.

"T-Taylor?" he whispered.

She didn't say anything but looked away from him, her head turning. She disappeared inside the house and after a minute or two; she came back out from the front door, holding an orange bottle of Gatorade.

Chad couldn't help but smile—this was everyday Taylor, always caring for others. She approached him slowly, handing him the bottle without saying a word. He gratefully took it from her soft hands and had a sip; the liquid felt sweet in his hot and dry throat. He smiled and said, "Thanks."

Of course, she didn't say anything. She walked down to the edge of the driveway and sat down on the curb. She was shaking. Chad wondered for a moment if she was sad, angry, or on the verge of tears.

Reluctantly he walked over and joined her, settling down onto the warm pavement next to her. He took another swig of Gatorade, letting it go all the way down his throat until he spoke. "So um…how have you been?" he asked shyly, avoiding eye contact. He would not dare let himself gaze into those beautiful brown eyes he'd been missing…

Taylor didn't speak, nor open her mouth, which Chad had been expecting. Was he getting the silent treatment from her? Or could she just not speak at all?

They sat on the curb for another few minutes in silence, staring down either at the road or at the house across, avoiding each other's eyes. Chad wanted to talk to her so badly, but he couldn't find the right words to say. Taylor was feeling nauseous just being right next to him, but she liked the feeling just the same.

The truth was, she'd been throwing up for the last couple of hours. Her head was spinning after confessing her most well-kept and dangerous secret to Troy, and she wanted to let everything out. Besides, her stomach was hurting and she had a sudden craving for a hot dog. Were these normal pregnancy symptoms?

She felt along the lining of her stomach; it wasn't so large yet, thankfully, but it had only been about three weeks since she'd found out. She felt horrible once she did; she didn't know how Chad would take it. He was, after all, the father.

Suddenly she wanted to kick herself—but they hadn't even really been _doing_ anything! They'd been fooling around. That was all. God, she wondered, why did it have to be _me_? Taylor knew her parents would flip once they found out, but she had to tell them…sometime. She would wait until the right moment to leap the news, to both her parents and Chad. But deep in her heart she knew she had to tell him. He would find out anyway, right? But how would he react? Would he be furious? Scared? Supportive? She just didn't know the answer. She'd asked Troy for his advice, but even he didn't know what to say about his best friend. Chad was as unpredictable as the weather.

Finally she opened her mouth, ready to force the words right out of her mouth. She would tell him, now. She didn't care how he would react, as long as he _knew_.

"Chad, I—"

Suddenly his cell phone rang, startling both of them. Chad blushed and uneasily slipped his hand into the pants pocket. "Uh, hello?" he said into the receiver.

Taylor watched him, blushing. She listened as he talked into the phone. "Hello? Oh hey. Yeah…what? Tonight? C'mon dude, I got other things on my mind right now—fine. But I'm going to hate you for this." He hung up angrily, muttering to himself. Then he turned to face Taylor for the first time, feeling like an idiot as he did so. "Uh, sorry about that. It's Jason. Apparently we have a team meeting and Coach Bolton wants us there _right now_." He sighed exasperatedly.

"Anyway, maybe we can talk later?" Chad stood up, brushing some unseen dust off his pants. He looked at Taylor hopefully.

She nodded, slowly. "Um…yeah. Okay," she mumbled as he turned to leave.

"Thanks." Chad smiled—Taylor's heart melted. "You know, uh, for the Gatorade."

He nodded again, waving, and broke out into a run. Taylor watched after him as he raced down the street without looking back, his big hair bouncing with each step, and into the direct sunlight.


	8. and the whole school knows

_author's note:_ hi everyone! okay okay i know i haven't been updating. and i feel bad. it's just .. well partly because i'm doing stuff during the summer and sometimes i get way too tired. but that's okay, here i am again! I've also noticed that I haven't been getting a lot of reviews lately, but I'm okay with that. i'm just happy people are reading the story, at least, and that they like it. it makes me happy.  
well enjoyy !

**Chapter Eight – And the Whole School Knows**

"Good morning, I made you some breakfast," said Zeke politely as Sharpay entered the kitchen, yawning and stretching her arms.

Sharpay couldn't help but smile—this was awfully _nice_ of Zeke. On the table lay a plate of scrambled eggs, a pile of pancakes, sausage, and bacon strips. It all looked delicious; she couldn't wait to eat. How had Zeke managed this?

She sat down at the table, still grinning. "Zeke, this is so…you didn't have to do this," she said, feeling extra nice. What happened to the Ice Queen inside of her?

Zeke laughed, noticing how beautiful Sharpay looked in the silky pajamas he'd lent her. "Hey, you are the guest. I even baked some crème brulee, if you like." He'd even added a vase of blooming daffodils in the center of the breakfast table, hoping Sharpay would appreciate them. "So where's Ryan?"

"He's upstairs, still snoring, that little bum." Sharpay smiled happily as Zeke sat down to join her. She was actually kind of glad her brother was still asleep—it meant she would have more alone time with Zeke. _Wait…what am I thinking?_ she wondered, helping herself to some sausage.

Zeke poured himself a glass of orange juice and grinned. He wondered how long Sharpay would be living with him, and hoped it would be for a very long time. He would get to spend more time with her, get to know her a little better. He was determined to soften her up.

They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the fresh air and golden sunshine, when suddenly Ryan entered, rubbing his eyes sleepily, followed by his tiny little dog Pepsi.

"Yo peeps," said Ryan drowsily, pulling up a chair beside his sister.

"Hey Ry," said Sharpay eagerly. "Mm, Zeke, these eggs are delicious. What's your secret?"

Ryan helped himself to some pancakes as Zeke happily explained his process of making scrambled eggs. "Well first I make sure the egg is fresh, you know, before just cracking it open into the frying pan…" He'd honestly never felt this pleased in his whole life as he went on.

After breakfast, they got ready for school. Zeke's mom dropped them off in her stylish Lexus in front of the East High campus. "Thanks Mom," said Zeke happily as he followed Sharpay out.

The students of East High were parting like the Red Sea, making room for the Ice Queen and King and Zeke, who hastily followed them. Sharpay and Ryan were used to this—the stories had been flying about the prankster who set fire to their house at the party a week ago; people were accusing other people and making up suspect lists. Some even said Ryan did it to get revenge on his sister for shunning him out of the party.

People were whispering as Sharpay passed. "I heard all her money burned along with the house," said one girl, "so she's so poor she can't even afford a toothbrush. Luckily the government's supporting her," she added with a snicker.

Zeke wondered how Ryan and Sharpay could take all this—he knew he wouldn't, for sure. But he could already see the silent tears forming in the corners of Sharpay's eyes as she pushed open the doors to the school, Ryan following her. He had to jog to catch up.

Suddenly a crowd of Wildcat cheerleaders and football players blocked his path to the main hall, yelling and singing the Wildcat theme song. "Wildcats sing along, yeah we really got it goin' on!" they shouted, holding up their EHS banners and waving proudly. Finally they cleared and Zeke looked around for Sharpay and Ryan, but the two were nowhere to be seen.

Panicking slightly, he walked around the hall looking for them until he heard crying coming from one of the empty classrooms. He watched for any teachers and peeked his head through the open door. Immediately he could see Sharpay leaning on her brother's shoulder, sobbing. Great big tears fell from her eyes. Ryan patted her on the back affectionately.

"It's not fair!" she sobbed. "I mean, I know I have a little bit of a reputation as a snob, but it's not nice for everyone to just keep talking _shit_ behind my back, when they know perfectly well that I can hear them. And just because we lost our house!" She broke out crying again. Zeke felt a painful stab in his heart.

"And Zeke," Sharpay went on, sobbing even harder, "Zeke is being so damn _nice_. I don't even think I deserve any of it. He makes us breakfast and dinner. He lends us clothes; he lets us stay in his house. And all I ever did to him was…was ignore him!"

Ryan sighed, nodding. "True," he agreed. Zeke bit his lip hard.

Frustrated, Sharpay stomped her foot and cried out, "It's just not fair, Ry! Why is he being so nice to me when all I'd ever done was try to forget about him? Like throwing away his stupid cookies. It was so cruel! Why do I have to be so mean?" Suddenly she blurted out without even knowing, "Now he'll never feel the way I feel about him, which makes everything a whole lot bett—"

Suddenly, Ryan stared at her. "_What_?" he said.

Zeke felt himself blushing. Sharpay liked him. Maybe even _loved _him. Finally! he thought. After all these years! She likes me!

Feeling like he'd heard enough, he sauntered back into the hallway. He wanted to scream, to jump up for joy, to dance. He would bake Sharpay something tonight, something utterly romantic, and tell her how he really felt over a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

Just then he ran into a pretty brunette cheerleader whom he'd known as Jamie. She flashed a wide smile at him and said, "Zeke! Oh God, did you hear about Gabriella?"

"Huh? What?" Zeke scratched his head.

Jamie leaned down—she was quite tall—and braced herself to tell her friend the awful news. "It's no wonder Troy missed basketball practice yesterday," she whispered excitedly, "because he was at the hospital visiting his girlfriend!"

Zeke stared up at her, horrorstruck. "Gabriella's in the hospital?" he croaked.

The cheerleader nodded gravely. "I know. It's sad, right? She's been in there for two weeks; we only just heard it now. She's in a coma. Troy's been keeping it a secret, that isn't like him…"

It all made sense, Zeke realized. Troy had missed the team meeting that Coach Bolton had arranged in the gym after school yesterday, which wasn't like him. Troy never missed a meeting. And his father wasn't even mad! Jack Bolton didn't even ask anyone where his son was; it was like he didn't even care. But he'd known the whole time. Also, Gabriella had been gone for a while. Why didn't anyone tell?

Still, the whole school probably knew by now. Someone must have overheard Troy or his dad. Gossip spread like wildfire through East High School, and once it was out, there was no stopping it.

"Wh-What happened?" Zeke finally sputtered out.

Jamie sighed, flipping her natural brunette hair. "Well, I don't know the full story, but Jason told me Gabriella was in a car accident on her way home one night. Some say she got run over. I don't really know," she admitted, blushing crimson. "I mean, god, no wonder she's been missing all this time."

Understanding, Zeke nodded and walked off, feeling dazed. The happy, excited feelings he'd felt just two minutes ago about his discovery about Sharpay were gone, and now replaced by guilt and fear and confusion. He wondered why Troy struggled to keep it a secret from his very best friends.

Bemused, he wandered aimlessly into his homeroom, room 209. He floated through the rest of his classes until it was free period workout, and the Wildcats had another basketball practice.

Chad was back, changing slowly in the locker room. He saw Zeke enter and said, "Hey, man. What's up?"

"Hey," Zeke replied dully. "Nothing much. You feeling better?"

"Yeah." Chad smiled slightly, leaning against his locker. "Yeah, I talked to Taylor yesterday."

Zeke wasn't so interested, but he said, "Really."

Again, Chad was grinning as he pulled on his basketball jersey. "I don't know why I even broke up with her, but now it's like…we're friends now. I think all I needed was a little break, you know?" He laughed heartily and took a drink of water form his bottle.

Faking a smile, Zeke laughed and went to change. Minutes later he popped out of the locker room as the rest of the team was shooting baskets. Even Troy was there, holding a basketball and staring down at the floor. Zeke didn't look at him, for he felt he was the only one who had heard about Gabriella.

"All right, Wildcats!" Suddenly Troy was on his feet, yelling at everyone. "Pair up!"

Everyone got into groups and started passing balls, shooting more baskets, the usual drill. Zeke was with Jason, who kept throwing the ball at him but Zeke couldn't even catch it.

Jason stared at him. "Dude, you gotta at least catch it!" he cried.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," Zeke mumbled, throwing the ball back. It didn't even fly into Jason's range.

"Dude, you okay?" Jason asked, jogging over to him. Zeke nodded and tried to shoot a basket but he missed—by a mile. He really felt like sitting down.

Jason, sighing, dragged his buddy over to Troy, who was leaning against the pole and watching everyone. Troy just stared at Zeke with not so much as a worried expression. "Man," Jason panted, "it's like Zeke doesn't even got game today. I think he's sick."

"Okay," Troy finally said without looking up, "um, go pair up with Chad. Zeke, stay here."

Zeke nodded and sat down on the warm gym floor, feeling exhausted even though he hadn't been doing anything at all. For a moment Troy looked at him and then whispered quietly, "So you heard."

"Yeah, I…I did, yeah," admitted Zeke, watching the sole of his shoes.

"Who told you?"

"Jamie. The cheerleader."

"Ah." Troy nodded and didn't speak for a while.

"I'm really sorry," Zeke blurted.

Troy looked down at Zeke and just grinned. "You know, for some reason right now I feel I can trust you more than I can trust Chad. Funny, isn't it? How life changes and so do friendships." He smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Chad can be a bit of an airhead sometimes, can't he?" Zeke smirked.

They didn't speak for a while, watching the rest of the team dribble balls and shoot baskets—or "touchdowns," as Ms. Darbus would say. Troy actually felt glad he had someone else to talk to—even if it was someone as weird as Zeke—other than Chad Danforth, the airhead. Sometimes he felt Chad only put more pressure on him, and that they were actually drifting apart. Chad was becoming more and more popular by the hour. He'd changed, and they both knew it.

Finally Troy said lazily, changing the subject, "I heard about the fire. Jason told me Sharpay and Ryan are staying at your house. Man, how do you deal?"

Zeke laughed, glad he could talk about something else other than Troy's sick girlfriend. He could talk good things about Ryan and Sharpay—especially Sharpay—for hours. He eagerly explained the situation to Troy while Chad, Jason, and the rest of the team played basketball around them. He was glad to have something else on his mind.  
**

* * *

**

Ryan Evans could _not_ believe what he was hearing. He stared at his sister, wondering since when she'd started having feelings for Zeke. _I mean, Zeke?_ he thought in awe. He knew Zeke very much liked her back, but the two of them together would be a very odd couple.

"You like him?" he asked.

Sharpay looked horrified. She clamped her hands on her mouth. "What? Oh no, did I say that? I never said that! I was just saying how _nice _he's being, that's all…"

At that moment Ryan knew. His sister had the "hots" for Zeke. She was hopelessly in love. She had fallen for Zeke's kind, "Good Samaritan" actions. It was a little bit amusing, but cute. His sister, Sharpay Evans, the Ice Queen of the universe, was in love with plain, average _Zeke_.

He teased her. "What about Troy, huh? What happened to him?"

"Shut up, Ryan!" his sister snapped.

"Ooh, Sharpie and Zekie…" teased Ryan playfully.

"I said shut _up_!"

Ryan laughed and taunted her all the way to their homeroom, where Ms. Darbus greeted them excitedly. She handed them a folder filled with newsletters and brochures. "Ryan and Sharpay," she said excitedly, "can you believe it? You two have been accepted for full-time scholarships at the Academy of the Performing Arts!"

For a moment they just stared at her. And then Sharpay started to scream.

"Oh my _God_, you're kidding me!" she yelled as some students, including Taylor McKessie, entered the classroom.

Excited, Ryan started jumping. "We did it, Shar! You and me! We're going to be actors!" he cried.

"Actors and _actresses,_ you mean to say," said Sharpay triumphantly, feeling the old snobbish spirit come alive in her again. She took the stack of papers and headed for her seat, just as Troy Bolton walked in, looking more handsome than ever.

But, oddly, Sharpay felt no rush of joy when he walked in. In fact, she felt…nothing. Nothing at all.

Troy moodily sat down at his desk and began reading a book Sharpay couldn't quite see the title of. She knew something was obviously wrong with him; he'd been so moody and out of it lately. Maybe it was family problems?

Ms. Darbus lectured her homeroom class something about "the evils of cell phones" while nobody really listened. Sharpay stole a glance toward the back of the room—Gabriella was missing. In fact, she'd been missing for a long time. So _that_ was why Troy was feeling grumpy, she thought. He missed his girlfriend.

Again she rummaged through her folder, feeling suddenly happy. She'd made it into the Academy of the Performing Arts. She would be acting and singing and dancing for the rest of her career—something she'd been doing pretty much her whole life. She loved crowds, more than ever. And here was her chance, her spotlight. She wanted to do cartwheels in the hallway. She made it!

Ryan, who sat behind her, tapped her lightly on the shoulder and grinned. "_We made it,_" he mouthed happily, and Sharpay felt like dancing all over again. Ms. Darbus was beaming at them the whole time.

The bell rang for first period, and the students filed out of the class in groups, talking and laughing. Sharpay thought to herself as she followed the crowd out into the hall, _nothing could ruin this day for me now, not Ryan's annoying taunts or everyone talking behind my back. Nothing._ She smiled and went to her first period class, English.

As soon as she walked in, everyone stopped talking and stared at her. She didn't mind; she was definitely used to this. She sat down quietly at her desk, took out her agenda, and began writing down the assignment, calm as ever.

The rest of the day was like this for both Sharpay and Ryan, but they both didn't care. The school day breezed by like the wind and before they knew it, school had already ended and students were racing home on their bikes, skateboards, or two legs. Ryan, though, was in no hurry. He calmly made his way through the campus looking for his sister and Zeke—who also drove them back to his house, since Ryan didn't have a car—when he stopped to hear two freshmen girls gossiping in the corner.

He lingered around the bushed, pretending to be checking his watch. The first girl said, "Did you hear about what happened to Troy Bolton's girlfriend?"

"Troy Bolton? _The_ Troy Bolton?" asked the second girl breathlessly.

"Yes!" squealed the first girl. "His girlfriend, I think her name was Gabrielle, got into a huge car accident. Nobody knows when or how, but she's been in the hospital for like two weeks! And she's in a coma! Can you believe it?"

The second girl bit her lip. "Wow…poor Troy," she said.

"Yeah, it is sad." The freshmen girls walked off, chattering excitedly about how "Gabrielle" could die and then Troy would be single. Ryan suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

When he finally found Sharpay and Zeke, who had been waiting for him by the fountain, he told them the news he had heard. Sharpay was shocked—so that was why Troy was sulking! —but Zeke didn't seem surprised. "I heard about it too," he said wearily.

Sharpay shook her head. "It's so sad," she mumbled. "Poor Troy."

For a moment she saw Zeke glancing up at her, his ears reddening, and she glanced back, but they both quickly looked down.

"Yeah, I wonder how he's been taking it," ventured Ryan quietly. "I mean, god. A _coma._"

They all nodded in agreement and sat for the rest of the car ride in silence. Zeke wondered whether he had been hearing things earlier that day in the empty classroom…could Sharpay still like Troy and not him? Did she even _care_ about him?

Meanwhile, in the backseat of Zeke's car, Sharpay wondered the exact same thing.


	9. what's going on with troy and kelsi?

_author's note- _thanks for the nice reviews!

**Chapter Nine – what's going on with Troy & Kelsi?**

_There's no point anymore,_ thought Troy Bolton wearily during his chemistry class. He didn't care about balancing chemical equations. He just wanted to see Gabriella again. _There's no point in coming to school without anyone to brighten up my day. I don't give crap about learning. I just want _her_ back._

He got out a piece of paper and, pretending like he was copying down the complex equations on the board, he wrote Gabriella's name over and over again. He added hearts. He put "and Troy" after each "Gabriella," so that it read "Gabriella and Troy." He drew a huge heart and scribbled all over it.

The redhead girl sitting behind him was staring at his picture. She raised an eyebrow, but he didn't care. _She probably knows about Gabriella._ He looked at the giant scribbled heart again. _Everyone knows now._ And then he sighed out loud.

The teacher, Mrs. Fitzpatrick, turned from the board to face him. "Something wrong, Mr. Bolton?" she asked sharply.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Troy turned slightly red. The girl behind him frowned. "Uh, no, Mrs. Fitzpatrick," he said shyly.

"Then keep your moaning to yourself and pay attention to this equation that I am trying to explain," said Fitzpatrick calmly, turning back around. Somebody snickered.

Troy didn't draw for the rest of the class. He didn't pay attention, either. Instead he just stared blankly at the chalkboard, his mind swimming with thoughts of Gabriella. He imagined Mrs. Fitzpatrick writing her name all over the chalkboard in big letters, slowly. _Gabriella._

Suddenly the bell rang, startling half the class including Troy. He reluctantly gathered his things, stuffing them into his backpack, and left for seventh period when Mrs. Fitzpatrick called out to him.

"Troy!" she said, just as he was about to leave. "A word?"

Finally he nodded, going over to the teacher's small but cluttered desk. He wondered whether he was in trouble. "Y-Yeah?"

"It's about your grade," said Mrs. Fitzpatrick serenely, handing him a slip of paper. Troy didn't want to look at it—he knew how horrible he was at chemistry—but he dared himself anyway. _A D,_ he read silently, feeling a wave of shame rush over him. What were his parents going to say? "You aren't passing, Bolton," said Fitzpatrick, calm as ever.

_No kidding,_ thought Troy dully, glaring at the teacher.

"What I think," continued Mrs. Fitzpatrick, "is that you need some basic chem. tutoring; that should bring your grade up. It's your senior year, Mr. Bolton, and as much as we all know how important basketball is to you, your grades—academically, of course—are also very, _very_ essential for the rest of your life."

_What will I need chemistry for in life?_ Troy thought hotly. _I'm not going to be a scientist!_

"And besides." Fitzpatrick smiled sweetly. "If you don't bring your grade up anyway, Troy, you'll be kicked off the basketball team! Well, won't _that_ be a shock for East High School."

Troy couldn't believe what he was hearing. This woman didn't even care about winning or losing the championships; she didn't care whether Troy got kicked off or not! She would even _let_ him, for all he knew! And for what? Balancing equations?

Instead of yelling at her, which he would have very much liked to do, Troy stood there glaring, his face turning red. Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled sweetly at him again. "So, what do you say? Tutoring?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yes," Troy spat out.

"Good, good." The teacher looked down at a long lost of names, names of hardworking chemistry geeks whom she probably favored. "Ah. Why don't you get your nice little girlfriend to tutor you?"

Now Troy was surprised. "Gabriella?" he asked her.

"Yes…she's a very bright student, you are quite lucky to be…er, _friends _with her."

He sighed, looking down to the tile floor. "No, I can't. Gabriella's—er—not here, at the moment," he finally mumbled.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick raised an eyebrow. "I don't know when she'll be back," Troy finished.

She nodded, not quite seeming to understand. "Ah. Well. Then I'll have to pair you with a tutor of my choice…" Again she scanned the list of names until her eyes lit up. Troy watched her, feeling nervous.

The teacher smiled and said lightly, scribbling something down on a Post It note, "Well, Bolton, I'll contact your new tutor as soon as possible, and the two of you should get together and start preparing for next week's exam."

Troy let out is breath. "Wait, um, who is my tutor?" he asked.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick beamed up at him, and Troy was abruptly fretful.

"Your tutor," said the teacher loudly, "is Anna Cole."

---

_Who the hell is Anna Cole?_ Troy thought as he left Mrs. Fitzpatrick's classroom. The halls were getting empty now; everyone was headed for seventh period. Troy sighed—his next class was all the way at the other side of the school.

Feeling lazy, he stopped by his dad's office in the boys' locker room. Jack Bolton was scrawled over a piece of paper, no doubt making new plays for the Wildcats' next game. Troy tapped on the door lightly, not wanting to scare him, and then pushed it open. The coach didn't even seem to notice his son standing there.

Troy coughed. Coach Bolton looked up, startled.

"Oh, Troy," he said, smiling. "Hey. Have a seat, son."

Troy nodded and sat down in one of the hard wooden chairs that were against the walls. He stared around the room at all his dad's accomplishments—championship banners from the seventies, an MVP plaque in the league finals with his name on it, and medals and trophies stacked on shelves. On one side of the wall was a large panoramic picture of the Wildcats basketball team when Mr. Bolton was in it, and next to it was the modern Wildcats picture, with Troy grinning in the middle as he held up the golden trophy. That was the previous year, and now everyone was hoping the Wildcats could pull it off again.

This office was the hall of fame, of Wildcat basketball history. Coach Bolton had clipped out newspaper articles of the winning season, and Troy could see a few with his picture on them. There were more pictures and plaque hanging from the walls, glimmering in the fluorescent lights of the office. Troy was impressed by all their accomplishments; he hadn't realized until this moment how much they had achieved.

It was no longer a mystery why his dad was always pushing them to do their best, and win.

Jack Bolton smiled and put down his pencil. "It's amazing, isn't it?" he said, chuckling. "Look at all this—Wildcat memories. It almost makes you want to relive it again, huh?"

His son nodded slowly, eyes darting around the room. And then he noticed it—a small-framed picture on his dad's desk. He reached over and picked it up, glancing at it. How come he hadn't noticed this before? He looked at the picture and drew in a sharp breath; it was him. But he wasn't in any basketball uniform! It wasn't Troy Bolton—the basketball guy. It was just _Troy Bolton_, Jack's son.

The picture had been taken when Troy was in seventh grade, one of those school pictures that went in the yearbook. Troy had on a loopy smile on his face, his eyes gleaming. He looked like a normal kid, not one of those basketball drones. You couldn't even tell he played basketball. So what was it doing here?

Jack saw his son looking at the picture and said lightly, "Ah, your mother _loves_ that picture. She shows it to all her colleagues, you know how mothers get." He grinned.

"Um, Dad?" Troy asked.

"Yes?"

For a moment Troy hesitated, wondering if he should really ask what was on his mind. Finally he said, "Um, nothing. It's just…I need to go now. You know. To class." He felt awkward as the words slipped from his mouth.

Jack nodded. "Ah. Well—looks like you'll be a little late if you don't get a move on now. I'll write you a pass, if you want." He bent down and scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Troy. "Alright, get going."

Troy stepped out of the office, slowly. He was in no hurry to get to seventh period.

He was about to shut the door when his dad called out, "Oh hey, how's your girlfriend?"

This was startling, and very unexpected. Troy turned around and mumbled, "She's doing okay. I think she's actually…getting better."

"That's great! You going to visit her tonight?" his dad asked.

"Yeah, I—yes," said Troy.

"Tell the young lady I said hello, and that I hope she's feeling better," said Coach Bolton with a smile on his face.

"Okay. I will." Grinning, Troy opened the door and closed it, and went to seventh period with a loopy grin on his face. So his dad _did_ care about other things other than basketball. He cared about his son, and he cared about Gabriella. Somehow, for Troy, that was a relief to know.

After school Troy had practice, but he decided to skip it. He knew his father would understand. He had a lot of other things on his mind than the championships—there was Gabriella, of course, and he still wondered who Anna Cole was. It didn't take long for him to find out.

He cruised through the emptying hallways, smiling and nodding and people who waved at him. He ran into Jason and told him that he wouldn't make it to practice that day. He passed Taylor but they didn't speak; only exchanging nervous looks. Troy noticed Taylor's stomach was increasing. He was the only one that knew, and it didn't surprise him. But people would find out eventually. It always happened in high school.

"Bolton!" someone called out, and Troy turned to see Blake Wagner, the guy from Sharpay's party, coming toward him. He was followed by a bunch of girls in tight little shorts and skirts—including Julianne Crew, the cheerleader girl who had flirted with Troy during Sharpay's party.

Troy tried to smile. "Blake—hey," he said. "What's up?"

"Yo, nothing much," said Blake casually, smirking.

"Hi Troy," said Julianne, wagging her fingers again. Troy tried not to look at her. She was wearing a light blue halter from Abercrombie and Fitch, her long blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail. She looked nice, but she was a _cheerleader_. And Troy had a girlfriend.

Blake slapped Troy on the back. "So—you goin' to my party next week?" he asked.

"Uh." The truth was, Troy hadn't even heard about the party. "I don't know, dude. Maybe, if I got time. I just um, have a lot of plans—"

"Oh yeah," said Julianne suddenly, smiling at him, "your chick. What's her name, Gabrielle?"

"Gabriella," said Troy curtly. Several girls giggled.

Julianne let go of Blake's arm and crept closer to Troy, making him feel nervous. "How is she, anyway? Heard she's such a goody-goody, doesn't even go to parties. God, like, I can't believe I haven't seen her around here yet. What's she look like, Troy? Is she really pretty?" More giggles and laughter.

Troy felt stupid with Julianne Crew circling him. "Yes…" he began, trying to control his anger.

Julianne was still smiling as she crept closer and closer, all her girlfriends giggling around. "Say, Troy, you know the fire at Sharpay's house? You didn't happen to be, you know…_near_ it, did you?" She started laughing again. Troy just glared at her, confused, wondering what she was talking about.

At last, Blake broke the tension. He grabbed Julianne's arm and pulled her toward him. She scowled. "Yeah, so…come to my party this Friday, man! And bring your basketball friends!" Blake called, walking briskly down the hallway toward a bunch of gangly-looking football players. Julianne waved at Troy, and when her boyfriend's back was turned, she blew him a kiss. Several girls laughed. Troy turned red.

He turned around and was about to begin his way to the parking lot when he heard a voice from behind him.

"What an ass, huh?"

He spun. "What?"

There was a girl leaning against her locker, grinning. She had jet-black hair and turquoise eyes that made her stand out above the rest. She was wearing a long brown prairie skirt and a black t-shirt. Her face was pale, very pale. Troy wondered who she was and why he hadn't seen her before.

He coughed. "Um."

The girl laughed, and Troy noticed how low her laugh was. She stepped up and shook Troy's hand. "I'm Anna," she said, still smiling. "You know. Your new tutor."

"Anna Cole?" Troy nearly jumped to his feet, excited.

"The one and only."

"Great!" Troy beamed. This girl wasn't half bad; he'd thought Anna would be one of those stuck-up cheerleaders like Julianne Crew. "Well, I'm—"

He was surprised to see another grin break out on Anna's face. "Troy Bolton. I know. God, who _doesn't_ know? You're like, the only guy everyone ever talks about around here," she replied simply, swinging her bag over her shoulder. Troy couldn't help but smile. He couldn't believe _this_ girl—this nice looking, dark-haired average unnoticeable girl—could be a whiz at chemistry, his genius tutor. It was a little hard to cpmprehend.

They started walking out of the campus, making small talk. "So," asked Anna, "what's it like being the Wildcats playmaker, Troy? You busy much? Or wait"—she smiled at him—"maybe you're too busy in the hospital, visiting what's-her-face?"

"Gabriella," Troy replied, amazed at this girl's amount of knowledge, "and yes, actually, I am."

A few people still lingering around the school saw Troy and Anna and started whispering and pointing excitedly. Troy didn't seem to notice, or care. He found he liked this girl, Anna. She was interesting.

They reached Troy's car and he asked eagerly, "Want a ride?"

To his surprise, Anna smiled and said, "No, thank you. I'd like to, but—I got a bike." She motioned to the bike racks over at the end of the school, where a single lime green bike was chained. Troy's face fell, but he nodded anyway.

"Okay. So. Um."

"If you're wondering, Bolton, I can't make it tonight," said Anna immediately, as if reading Troy's mind. "I got business to do downtown. Besides, I don't want to interfere with your frequent hospital visits. Tell Gabi I said hi." She cracked a grin. Troy returned it.

"So tomorrow afternoon, then? Right after school. See ya, Bolton." She gave him one last final wave and started jogging over to the bike racks. Troy waved after her and got into his car, feeling oddly content and satisfied.

---

Kelsi Neilson rested her head on the window. She was, once again, taking the school bus home because her sister Karyanne had her car. Karyanne was with her mother deciding on the catering for the wedding, and their car was in the auto shop. Kelsi's ancient green Civic was the only choice of transportation left.

She sighed, leaning back against the leather seat. She looked out the window. Cars and busses passed in a blur; traffic was obviously low. Everyone else in the Metro Link was asleep or reading old newspapers. Kelsi was no doubt the youngest person there.

Her mind drifted back to school. She thought of Gabriella, lying alone in the hospital. She thought of Troy, probably driving home alone in the cool autumn wind, thinking about Gabriella. She wanted to keep him company. Like that would ever happen.

The bus driver, a short guy whose head looked too big for his body, called out, "Next stop, Bermuda Avenue!"

Kelsi gazed out the window, knowing her stop was the one after the next. It had started to rain, a low, quiet sprinkle, and she watched as people walking around ducked under the roofs and verandas for cover. _It's just rain,_ she thought, wondering just how bad it could be. She glanced at everyone again, looking for a familiar face—and then, suddenly, she saw one, standing out amongst the sea of unknown faces.

Before she knew what she was doing, she reached her hand up and yanked the yellow line just above her head. The bus driver halted on the brakes, startling a few sleeping passengers.

"What!" he cried, annoyed. They were in the middle of the street, cars honking all around them. The bus driver turned to stare at her. "This isn't a bus stop!"

Kelsi felt her face flush, wondering what had suddenly come in her. "I know," she explained, ignoring the watchful eyes of the other passengers on board, "I just really…I need to get off. Right now."

The driver just stared at her.

"We're in the middle of the road, can't you see that?" he cried, his face going red.

"Please, just let me out."

Shaking his head, the driver pushed open the doors and Kelsi ran outside in the low drizzle. She already felt the tears coming, saw the look on the driver's face, avoided the stares she was getting. She dodged some cars, sliding her hood over her face and clutching her bag. Soon she'd made it to the other end of the street.

The traffic started to move along, drivers cursing and swearing and shouting things from their windows at Kelsi. She just stood there, horrified, wondering what on earth she'd just done.

Finally she looked around for the face she'd seen. The crowd had thickened under the roofs for shelter from the rain, and it was hard to see anyone. But then she heard a voice calling out, "Kelsi!"

She spun around, confused. There was her sister, Karyanne, standing alone in the rain with a pink umbrella over her head, grinning toothily. Kelsi smiled and ran over to the empty spot where her sister stood. They were huddled underneath the pink umbrella, shivering and making faces at everyone else.

"Kar—what are you doing here?" Kelsi finally breathed.

"Me?" Karyanne laughed. "You! God Kels, I saw you stop the bus. That was pretty bold, little sister." She smiled.

Kelsi scratched her head. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you were with Mom at Mayor's Market!"

"What? Oh…no, no." For some reason, Karyanne seemed a little bit different—happy, yet sad. Definitely _not_ like Karyanne Neilson.

"Kar. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. Kelsi, I'm fine. I'm great. Now let's go, okay? Mom has the car, so we'll just walk over to Noodle Palace for lunch. How does that sound? Good? Great." Kelsi's sister grabbed her arm and pulled her through the wet streets, dodging the crowd. Kelsi was confused as ever. Something was up.

They walked a few blacks before coming across a small building with a marble dragon's head on top. Its malicious eyes seemed to glare at them as they walked under the small roof and pried open the glass door, which read "Noodle Palace" in bright red letters.

Kelsi felt herself shrink as she entered. As teeny as it looked on the outside, indoors the restaurant was huge. There must have been 40 tables, each aligned perfectly in rows. Waiters and waitresses walked around carrying trays of steamy-looking bowls to hungry customers sitting at the tables. There was a big fish tank at the back of the restaurant, and beside it you could see the chefs cooking meals in their tall red hats.

Then Kelsi felt her sister's fingers enclose over her wrist, pulling her toward the counter near the front, where a short woman with stubby legs was waiting for them and smiling. Her shiny black hair was pinned in a neat bun, where she'd stuck in two wooden chopsticks.

"Hello," said the woman cheerfully. "Welcome to Noodle Palace. How many?"

Karyanne spoke immediately. "Two, please," she said.

"Okay. Follow me, now…" The woman grabbed two menus off the rack beside her and led the sisters through the aisle to an empty table at the back of the restaurant, near the small fish tank. Karyanne's fingers were still wrapped on Kelsi's wrist, never letting go, until they sat down at the table across from each other.

"I'm Jean," said the small woman, placing the menus on the table. "I'll be your waitress this afternoon. Um, can I start you off with a drink, perhaps? It's rainy out, so might I suggest one of our steamy coffees?" She was a professional at this.

Instead, Karyanne put up a hand. "It's okay," she said sweetly, "my sister and I will just have tea. Do you have tea?"

Jean smiled. "Yes. We have green tea, lime tea, herbal tea—"

"Green tea," Karyanne interrupted, "is fine. And make them warm."

Jean nodded, writing it all down on a pad of paper before leaving. Kelsi watched after her, noticing how small she was, barely taller than a sixth grader.

A few minutes later Jean came back with their green teas—Kelsi didn't even _like_ green tea; she didn't know why her sister ordered it for her—and then took their orders. To everyone's surprise, Karyanne didn't order anything. She just replied that she'd had a sandwich an hour ago, and that she wasn't really hungry. Kelsi, who was, reluctantly ordered a small bowl of wonton soup and rice.

When Jean came back with the heap of food in her tray, Kelsi felt her stomach lurch and began to eat. She was really hungry, mainly because she'd only eaten half an apple for lunch at school that day. Meanwhile, Karyanne quietly sipped the rest of her tea, watching.

Kelsi couldn't stand it. Finally she mumbled out loud, "Aren't you hungry?"

"What? Oh—nah. I'm just fine, I told you; I had a sandwich earlier," Karyanne replied, still looking somewhat cheery. Her cheeks were flushed but what Kelsi noticed were her eyes—round and swollen. One of them looked a little black around the edges, and they were both pink. Also, Karyanne's face, arms, and legs were oddly pale.

She was about to open her mouth and say something when Karyanne ventured, "So, are you still hungry? I'll order you more wonton soup if you want…"

"Kar."

"…unless you want to try something else, fine, just go look on the menu. Nothing over 30 dollars, Kelsi, I'm on a low budget…"

"_Karyanne!_" Kelsi spat out.

Her sister turned to look at her, startled. She raised an eyebrow. "Huh? What?" she asked.

Kelsi took a few deep breaths before saying what she was about to say. She cleared her throat and whispered, her voice awfully low, "I don't think you're eating."

There was a long pause. Karyanne just stared at her sister, her eyes wide. "What?" she finally stammered. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to say this because you're my sister: You don't look well, Karyanne." Oddly, Kelsi felt superior as she spoke, finally getting her own chance to prove herself. She felt kind of weird telling what was in her mind aloud, something she never really did. Kelsi always held back and kept quiet.

Karyanne just smiled, as if this were all an amusing joke. "Kelsi, are you on crack? I'm _fine_, I told you," she replied in a falsetto voice.

But Kelsi wouldn't believe her. There was something not right about her sister—not only did she look thinner, but her personality was different, more…fake. Maybe it was all from the stress of the upcoming wedding. Did brides usually have breakdowns like this?

"Karyanne, I'm serious." _Whoa, that sounds weird,_ Kelsi thought. _Calling my sister that._

"Well I'm serious too!" Karyanne pouted back, crossing her arms, suddenly looking angry.

"Well…_eat_ then," Kelsi whispered meekly, pushing her bowl of wonton soup across the table to where Karyanne sat. She wasn't willing to start an argument.

Furious, her older sister got to her feet, a complete mess of blonde hair and terribly pale skin. "I'm fine, Kelsi, I told you! I already ate!" she yelled loudly that everyone turned and stared. Kelsi felt herself shrink once more.

_Don't make a scene,_ she pleaded inside her mind, her hands gripping the ends of her chair.

Finally Karyanne settled down, ignoring the stares she was getting from all the other customers at Noodle Palace. Calm as ever, she took out a wad of bills from her purse and set them on the table. Then she looked at Kelsi, smiling as if all this had never happened. "Shall we go then?" she asked.

Breathless, Kelsi just sat there, amazed at her sister. Was she in the worst mood swing or _what_?

They both stood up, leaving their plates and napkins and unfinished food behind, and slowly made their way to the front door. All eyes were on Karyanne, but she didn't seem to notice. Even the waitresses—and Jean—were glaring at her. Kelsi felt uncomfortable, ready to drop dead on the spot. Never had she been more embarrassed in her life. But at least she'd found out some truth in all the drama.

Once outside, Karyanne (who was now suddenly cheerful again) called their mother to come pick them up in front of the Noodle Palace. They waited by the edge of the road in silence, standing quietly under Karyanne's pink umbrella. The ride home was awkward. Mrs. Neilson wasn't speaking, Karyanne wasn't speaking, and Kelsi wasn't speaking. The three of them just listened to the soothing classical/jazz music on the radio from 105.8, the Jazz Station, accompanied by the peaceful sounds of falling rain. Kelsi had to admit, the two mixed well.

When they got home, Karyanne immediately retreated to her room—claiming she had "plans to make for the wedding, and that she mustn't be disturbed—and Kelsi finished her calculus homework in the dim light of the kitchen, sitting alone at the table and listening to music on her headphones. Kelsi's mother went to preparing dinner and waiting for her husband to come home from work. It was as normal as any day in the Neilson residence…yet, nowhere near ordinary, what with the truth that Kelsi had realized about her sister. She needed to talk to someone, to _tell_ someone. Instead, she kept her mouth shut. Typical Kelsi.

Once Mr. Neilson got home, tired from a hard day's work at the office, the family sat down for dinner. Tonight was baked lasagna and peas to go along with it. They even had yummy tiramisu for dessert. Kelsi licked her lips hungrily.

Karyanne eventually went down when Mrs. Neilson called, her face looking stony. She didn't even look at her sister as she sat down in the cold wooden chair. Her face, Kelsi noticed, had stiffened at the sight of all that food. Also, her face looked paler and her eyes puffy. _Probably from crying_, Kelsi realized.

They said grace, with Kelsi's father leading. "We thank you Lord for this food we are about to eat," he spoke loudly, "and may you continue to grant us blessings which we are thankful for. Amen."

"Amen," said everyone, and began to pile his or her plates.

"Mm, this is great, Mom," said Kelsi as she swallowed a forkful of cheesy lasagna. She tried not to make eye contact with Karyanne, who was just sitting there, staring at her empty plate.

Her dad passed her the bowl of peas. "Have some, pumpkin," he said with a grin. "It's not your last meal with the family. We've still got—what, four weeks? Five?"

Kelsi's mom's eyes twinkled. "Three," she said, smiling at her eldest daughter. "Before my baby gets married and has kids of her own."

Her eldest blushed slightly. She still didn't take the bowl her father was handing her.

"Take some, Kar," Kelsi finally managed to say. Karyanne shot her a death look.

And then she said calmly, much to everyone's surprise, "I'm fine, actually. I had a sandwich and some wonton soup earlier for lunch, and I'm not really in the dinner mode. I need to get back to my wedding plans—"

Kelsi was shocked. Furious. She stamped her food and cried, "You didn't even _eat_ it!"

"—and not only that," Karyanne continued, ignoring her sister's protests, "I'm dead tired. I think I'll take a short nap." She smiled weakly, but her parents didn't buy it.

Instead, Mrs. Neilson just stared at her. "But don't you want to try my lasagna?" she asked.

"And what about the tiramisu!" chimed in Kelsi's dad. "Your favorite!"

Karyanne just shook her head, twisting a piece of hair between her fingers. "Really. I'm fine. I just really need to rest right now; god, I'm about to collapse…" She stood up swiftly, pushing in her chair. Kelsi gaped at her—she was really doing this.

"Kar!" she cried, but her sister put up a hand and smiled.

"Really, Kelsi, I'm not hungry," she replied, turning to leave. She gave them one last look before saying dramatically, "I'll be upstairs, sleeping. Please do me a favor and not disturb me, okay? Thanks guys, love you. Goodnight!" She smiled, waved, and flew upstairs without so much as a bread roll to take with her.

For a moment the family sat there in silence, not believing what had just happened. It wasn't like Karyanne to just skip dinner like that. _And_, Kelsi thought furiously, _it isn't like her to just lie about eating the soup. She probably didn't even eat the sandwich. _

Finally Kelsi's mother spoke, her voice quavering. "Did you see how _pale_ she looks!" she said.

Her father nodded, his face appearing somewhat stony. He swallowed a spoonful of peas before continuing, "She's gotten skinnier too. A lot skinnier." He turned to his youngest daughter, eyes questioning. "Kelsi, did you say your sister _didn't_ eat the wonton soup?"

"Yes," Kelsi heard herself say. "We were um, at Noodle Palace. She took me there this afternoon for lunch. She ordered us green teas, which she drank, but when the soup came she didn't even have a sip." Her voice sounded hoarse and creaky.

Mrs. Neilson nearly screamed. "That's her favorite, wonton soup! She _loves_ that!"

Her husband sighed, shaking his head. "Apparently not," he said quietly. All became still as they sat there under the dim kitchen lights, thinking about Karyanne—who _still_ had all the attention, even during her own crisis, Kelsi realized. She muttered something about being jealous under her breath.

Finally her dad spoke. "I think we need to have a talk with her, Margaret," he said, his voice grave.

Kelsi's mother nodded in agreement. She folded her hands together in her lap. "Yes, Harold, we will. Just let me clean this up…" She stood up and maneuvered around the table, stacking plates as she went. Did cleanliness really matter in this situation? Kelsi wondered.

She continued to sit there, even long after her parents left to go have "the talk" with their daughter. She sat there hour by hour, listening to the shouting and yelling and sobbing coming from upstairs, in Karyanne's room.

And then finally, it hit Kelsi Neilson like a rocket: Her sister had an eating disorder.


	10. fake smiles and white pills

_author's note on bottom! enjoy the chapter! _

WARNING: some major cussing in this chapter, but not much. also, chad does some pretty bad things .. i won't say no more. READ!

**Chapter Ten – Fake Smiles and White Pills**

"Well, Miss McKessie," said Doctor Herman, scratching the exterior of his chin, "it seems that you and the baby are doing just fine. You're about one month along, and the process is slow. But guess what, the baby has already formed half his body and—and legs!"

Taylor just sat there at the examination table, clutching her stomach, amazed. Her baby had _legs_. She—or he—was growing, forming like a real child. A baby. She'd only just realized it now.

She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "Um, wait, Dr. Herman, did you say _his_ body? Is it a boy?" she asked, her voice growing louder.

Dr. Herman smiled and shook his head. "No, we don't know that yet, Taylor. We'll find that out perhaps when the baby's about three, four months along. I can't say now."

Taylor seemed disappointed—if she was actually going to have this baby, she wanted it to be a girl. A happy, fun-loving baby girl that she could love and raise and take care of all on her own. The previous night she'd made up a long list of girl names: Patricia, Christina, Monica, and Rachel were just a few names on the list. She was really leaning on Elizabeth, though.

Suddenly she had a thought. What if Chad didn't like those names? What if he wanted something else, like Camille or Danica? What if he disagreed? All these questions started popping up in her mind that she became frightened. She hadn't even _told_ him yet!

Dr. Herman was looking at her curiously. "Taylor, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"What? Oh—yes, Dr. Herman, I'm fine," Taylor lied hastily. She was breathing hard, for some reason, and her stomach hurt. "It's just…you know, stress with the baby, and all."

The doctor rested a hand on her shoulder, and Taylor felt her posture stiffen. "You know, Miss McKessie, you do realize you are quite young," he said quietly.

This only made Taylor feel even worse. "Yes," she said in a meek voice, "I know."

"Your parents." Dr. Herman was speaking quite suddenly, his voice softening. "Do they know about this?" He looked down on his patient.

Taylor's eyes were brimming with tears. There was no denying it now. "No, Dr. Herman, they don't."

She half-expected him to call her parents up and tell them, but to her surprise, he didn't. Instead he just sighed, shook his head, and said calmly, "I understand how hard it is to be pregnant at your age, Miss McKessie. I have a niece who got pregnant at the age of 16." His voice was solemn.

Taylor looked at him, stunned. "Really?" she gaped. "Sixteen?"

"Yep. She was about ready to do an abortion too, but that wasn't right. So she had her baby, pulled through, and the child turned out beautiful. They named her Lucille, after her grandmother."

"Wow," said Taylor, impressed.

"Yeah." Dr. Herman smiled. "It's great, isn't it?"

They sat in silence for a while, and Taylor wondered what it felt like to be a mother. She knew it would come with a lot of responsibility and hard work. She planned to ask her own mother later.

After the checkup, she drove home in her old Mitsubishi, cranking up tunes from 107.3—the new Hits local community radio station. She didn't really feel like going home. It was only 6:37; the night was young. But where to go.

She decided to let her car take her wherever it did. She turned left and right and then left again, not even knowing where she was headed. She drove and drove and drove, until she was well out of the city and into the warm New Mexican desert, the empty road stretching out for miles in front of her.

Finally, Taylor stopped, cutting the engine short. She'd parked in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the low desert hills and tall cactus plants. The lights of the city were behind her, lighting up the sky. A coyote howled from somewhere. And suddenly Taylor didn't feel alone.

_I'm never alone,_ she realized, bending down to pat her growing stomach. _I'll always have Elizabeth with me._ Satisfied, she smiled at that, turned the keys to the ignition, and began the long journey home.

---

That night, Zeke was busy with two English essays that he had no time to bake something for Sharpay, like he'd originally planned. Luckily his mom made them something, and even though she wasn't a great cook, Ryan and Sharpay seemed to love it. They sat at the dinner table with steaming plates of warm—and slightly over-cooked, Zeke noticed—fettuccini alfredo. They were doing Italian tonight.

Ryan licked his lips hungrily. "Seriously," he said, "this is way better than a four-star restaurant!"

Zeke's mother laughed nervously. She glanced over at Zeke. "Is it?" she asked him.

"Yeah, Mom," Zeke admitted truthfully, not wanting to say it tasted bad—which it didn't. He smiled at her and said again, "Yeah, it's great."

She beamed at that. "Of course, not as good as my son's cookies and crème brulees," she said, her voice swelling with pride and admiration. Zeke turned crimson and tried not to look at Sharpay, who was admittedly doing the same.

The four of them—Zeke's dad was still at work on a new reality cooking television show—ate their dinner happily, engaging in hearty, family-style conversations that involved school, movies, television shows, and some politics. And then, to Zeke's horror, his mother turned to Sharpay and asked, "So, Miss Evans, how is it with your house? Did the police find out the little prankster yet?"

Zeke was about to open his mouth in protest, tell Sharpay she didn't have to answer, but to his surprise, she opened her mouth and began to speak, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, putting down her glass of water, "Ryan and I got a call from Officer Delano last night, and…well, they have a main suspect on who may have started the fire."

Stunned, Zeke nearly choked on his fettuccini. "They do?" he asked.

Sharpay nodded. "Yeah…and they think it's…" She trailed off, glancing uneasily at her brother. Ryan sighed and shook his head, looking down at his half-empty plate.

"They think it was Troy Bolton," said the two siblings in unison.

Zeke dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter. He could _not_ believe this.

"Troy?" he choked out.

Sharpay nodded, sighing, and then leaned back on her chair, folding her hands in her lap. She was bright red. "Yeah, um, I don't know…it's really stupid; why would Troy do that? But they really think it's him, they really believe…"

Again Ryan, who was twiddling with his fork, interrupted her. "See, we think he got framed," he explained to Zeke and his mom. "They found his jacket near the place where the fire started, with his school ID in it and everything. Also"—he shook his head sadly—"a lighter."

For a moment Zeke was confused. "Why would Troy keep a _lighter_ in his pocket?" he asked.

"Hell, like I know."

Sharpay frowned. "How can you start a fire with a lighter?" she crooned angrily. "I mean, it'll only send out a tiny flame, wouldn't it?" Furious, she stamped her foot. She was finding it hard to believe that Troy Bolton could have set her house on fire.

Ryan merely shrugged and rested his elbows on the table. "I'm just glad Pepsi made it out okay," he said randomly. His sister scowled at him.

They continued their dinner in silence, thinking. Zeke knew it wasn't Troy—it couldn't be Troy. But still…he _had_ just taken off during the party without warning. Maybe he'd burned the house and then fled. It was possible—but not Troy-like. What reason would he have? Zeke always thought his friend was fond of Ryan and Sharpay Evans; he'd done a musical with them.

Finally they went up to bed, minds still whirring. This time Sharpay didn't even say anything to Zeke as she slowly made her way up the stairs before retreating to her room. Zeke was disappointed. Sharpay could see the hurt in his eyes, and she desperately wanted to hug it all out, make the pain go away. She knew it was a bit much to tell him that it was possible that his friend Troy could end up in jail.

But no, she reasoned, it wasn't possible. Troy would never do such a thing.

---

Chad Danforth was shocked when he'd heard—from Jason, who heard from Jamie the cheerleader—about Gabriella's accident. His jaw dropped in astonishment. It was no wonder she hadn't been at their practices, cheering them on! So she'd been lying unconscious in the hospital all along.

He was livid. Why didn't Troy tell him? Why'd he have to go off and keep it a secret from everyone? And for weeks too! Chad thought he was Troy's "most loyal best friend". He was angry at Troy for keeping it in all this time.

"Ah, I don't know," Jason was saying as he told Chad the shocking news. "It just bugs me why Troy didn't tell anyone, not even us, his team. I mean, god, he didn't even tell _you_, right? Did he?"

Again Chad shook his head. "No, Jason," he said evenly. "He did not."

Jason sighed and shook his head. He stared down at the gym floor where they were having yet another basketball practice. "Poor Gabriella," he murmured into the air. He'd liked Gabriella for a while, and then gave up, knowing Troy was the perfect guy for her. Now he was just waiting for the Right Person. And frankly, he knew she could be anywhere.

The two boys were silent until Coach Bolton called the whole team forward, his face looking grim. The team silently obeyed and made their way slowly, unenthusiastically, over to the bleachers.

Coach Bolton ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Okay," he said loudly, "I know you're all pretty mad at Troy for not telling anyone about…you know. In fact, he didn't even tell me until a few days after the little calamity. He calmly explained to me why he couldn't make some practices if he had another, more important commitment…Gabriella, his girlfriend, and her life. You all understand that, don't you?"

No one said anything, just stared blankly at the gym floor.

Coach sighed. "Well, whatever. We won't worry about that now. We gotta stay _focused_, people. The championships are just weeks away, and if we want to see another gleaming golden trophy in my office…ah." He shuddered delightfully, imagining his team holding the trophy and yelling with joy, just as they had done the previous year.

After Mr. Bolton's little pep talk, the team did more shooting and dribbling drills. Practice, as usual, seemed way different without Troy bossing them around. No yelling, no, "What team? Wildcats! What team? Wildcats! Wildcats—Get 'cha head in the game!" cheers. Chad just didn't have the heart. He was kind of pissed at Troy too.

When practice was over, everyone went home with a heavy heart, still chatting about the rumors they'd heard about Gabriella's accident. Chad, Jason, and Zeke drove to the nearest Mickey D's (who calls it McDonald's?) for BigMacs and fries. It felt somewhat emptier without Troy and Gabriella, who usually tagged along on these little hangouts.

Later, the boys were sitting at an empty table near the back of the restaurant, munching on burgers and drinks in a rather awkward silence. With Troy and Gabriella around, they were usually pretty loud, but today they had nothing to talk about.

Finally Jason broke the silence. "You know, I think he should've said _something_," he remarked thoughtfully, dipping a French fry into the tiny packet of sweet and sour sauce.

Zeke looked up. "Who, Troy?"

"Yeah."

"I think he's pretty fucked up for not telling us in the first place," Chad said bitterly.

There was another short pause, and then Jason glanced over at Chad, who was sitting at the very edge of his seat, fuming with anger. _Wow,_ he thought,_ Chad must be really pissed_. "Well it's not really his fault, you know. It's not easy telling people this kind of stuff—"

Chad glared at him. "What kind of stuff, Jason!" he cried. "What's so hard about _not_ telling us, his best friends!"

A few people sitting at other tables shot him annoyed looks. "Quiet down, kid," someone said.

As usual, Chad ignored them by swearing out loud and then standing up suddenly, yanking his chair back in frustration. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled out of the restaurant, leaving his food on the table. Zeke and Jason stared after him in astonishment.

Finally Zeke said, "Chad's got anger issues."

"Yeah!" agreed Jason, taking a sip of Diet Coke. "Did you hear what he did to Taylor?"

"Taylor McKessie?"

Jason nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Taylor went up to me in fifth period and purposely asked how Chad was doing, then I asked why, and she told me everything…" He started to explain what had happened that day when the double doors swung open, letting in a gust of bright sunlight and air. Zeke looked up to see who had entered.

It was Ryan and Sharpay Evans.

_Oh, God._ His mind started to race, his heartbeat getting faster and faster at the sight of beautiful, blonde Sharpay. Jason looked at him. "Zeke…?" Then he saw Sharpay and grinned.

Luckily the pair didn't notice Zeke and Jason sitting alone at their table and arguing over burgers. Instead, they went up to the cashier and Ryan ordered. Sharpay was pouting, her face turning furiously red as she said something aloud to her brother. Zeke secretly thought she looked beautiful when she was mad.

"Dude, you gonna ask her out anytime soon?" Jason inquired, nudging him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I…I will." Suddenly Zeke blurted, "She likes me."

_"What?"_

And Zeke just smiled. Meanwhile at the counter, Sharpay felt an odd twinge in her stomach; the familiar "Zeke's here" feeling. He had to be here; she could feel it in her heart. Out of the corner of her eye she scanned the restaurant as Ryan ordered a box of 10-piece chicken nuggets—and a Happy Meal for himself—and that's when she saw him, smiling. She knew that smile anywhere, and for some reason, it made her heart start beating faster and faster that it would burst with happiness.

Instead, she pretended to not notice him as she stood there, pouting, while inside she was breaking to pieces.

They got their food and left; Sharpay trying desperately not to look back at Zeke. But she stole a glance anyway. Zeke was grinning, chatting it up with Jason, another basketball drone from the team. His face was blushing red, and Sharpay admitted to herself that she liked it.

Chad, in the meantime, was outside sulking. He'd realized he not only was pissed at Troy, but at the world too. He was pissed at himself for leaving Taylor when he knew he still loved her. He was pissed at his family for being so protective and pushy with him. He was pissed at the drunk driver who'd hit Gabriella that stormy night. He was pissed at Coach Bolton for making the team practice harder than ever this year. He was pissed at…well, everything.

A gangly-looking guy wearing extremely tattered jeans came along, swinging his keys in his pocket. The guy took one look at Chad and said, "Hey kid, you want some…?"

For a moment Chad just looked at him. The guy trotted over to him, limping, like he'd been hurt in a major accident. He smiled, showing yellow teeth, and pulled a small bag of white pills from his pocket. He thrust them into Chad's hands, which were shaking.

"You look terrible," he said with a grin. "Take it. It's yours."

"Uh." Chad just stared at the bag, wondering what the pills tasted like.

"Just take it, kid. You look like you need something in ya." The guy stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away on the empty sidewalk. Chad stared after him, and then peeked down at the bag once more, wondering.

_What the hell,_ he thought; ripping it open and thrusting a few white pills in his hand. _It won't hurt to try one._ He popped them into his mouth.

Suddenly he heard the doors open, and to his surprise, out came Ryan and Sharpay, holding McDonalds bags and arguing like normal people. For some weird reason, Sharpay had a big smile on her face and for once in her life didn't look so much like the Ice Queen. Ryan, well, still looked like Ryan, in a red shirt from Journey's and matching hat. They fast-walked down the parking lot and were about to get into Ryan's rental car—he'd finally saved enough money to get one, which meant no more rides from Zeke.

And then Chad called out, "Sharpay! Ryan!"

They spun around, wondering who yelled their names. Chad went waddling over to them, a big loopy smile on his face.

"Hey," he said, waving.

"Um…hi," said Sharpay, staring at him with malevolent eyes. "Do we know you?"

Chad laughed, for once. He felt silly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm Chad Danforth. From the basketball team, y'know?" He grinned. Sharpay kept glaring at him.

Finally Ryan broke the silence, saying loudly, "Oh, I remember you! You're Troy's friend, right?"

"Troy? HAHA. Who cares about _Troy?_" babbled Chad, who was practically yelling at them. "Troy Bolton's a dickhead. HAHA, dickhead. Get it? Ha ha ha. Hey Sharpay, I think you're pretty. You know that? Yeah, I think you're beautiful. You wanna go out sometime, babe?"

Sharpay's face grew red, and then she suddenly struck him hard on the face. Chad just stood there, gaping at her while she screamed, "Are you _drunk_! Are you taking drugs, asshole!" She was so furious, there were tears rolling down the sides of her face. Ryan, being the protective brother, shielded her in some sort of man-hug. Chad just stood glaring at them. He seemed to snap out of his craziness.

Instead, he simply walked away while Sharpay lay in her brother's arms, sobbing. His face was throbbing red, yet he didn't feel any pain at all. Man, did that Sharpay know how to slap.

He kept walking, alone, down the sidewalk and out of the McDonalds parking lot. He felt bad for what he did to Sharpay and Ryan. Now he knew they would never talk to him again. Whatever, it wasn't like _he_ cared.

He stopped and stuffed his hand in the pocket of his jeans. He felt the white pills inside—their rounded, oval-shaped surfaces and interesting taste. He wanted more. But he knew he would have to wait.

"_Chad!"_

Hearing his name, Chad suddenly jerked his head backward and began running. He ran back in the direction of the McDonalds restaurant, his feet pounding on the sidewalk, when he bumped head-on to a person walking by.

_Ow, _thought Chad painfully, moaning and gripping his forehead. He looked up, and the person he'd knocked into scowled at him. It was a woman, probably a few years older than him, with light brown hair and eyes that sparkled. Her face was pale and her arms and legs were as stick-skinny. She looked like a walking, talking, living pole. She was so small and so incredibly thin.

For a moment Chad just stared at her as if she was an exhibit at the museum. The girl stared back before finally spitting out, "Maybe you should watch where you're going, punk."

"Well maybe you shouldn't walk in other people's way."

"Get a life, asshole," replied the girl simply. She looked like she was enjoying this. "And what happened to your face? It's all red."

Chad chose to ignore this, stuffed his hands in his pockets and said bitterly, "Get a therapist, you anorexic freak." Whoops. He hadn't meant to say that.

The girl stared at him, eyes wide. Then, to his horror, they started filling with hurtful tears.

"No, wait, I didn't mean to—"

She looked up, her whole body shaking violently, like she was about to faint. "Do I…do I really look anorexic to you?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Chad didn't want to say anything more, afraid he might hurt the girl's feelings, but he knew she was expecting an answer. So he sighed, rubbed the back of his head and said quietly, "Well, I assumed you were. Look at the size of you." He motioned to a nearby shop window, where their faces and bodies were shown in reflection, staring eerily back at them.

The girl put a hand to her pale face and stared unwillingly at her reflection in the window. She _was_ skinny, way too skinny. Skinnier than she had intended.

Realizing this, she sank to her knees and started to cry.

Chad bent down to comfort her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Shh, shh, it's okay. I didn't mean to offend you," he said soothingly. "Maybe you should…I don't know, see a therapist. They can help you get over your um…your…"

"My eating disorder," finished the girl for him, standing up and wiping her tears quickly.

"Yeah." He forcefully stuck out a hand. "Um. I'm Chad."

The girl smiled tearfully, sadly. "Karyanne," she replied in a quiet voice, taking Chad's hand and shaking it. "And how old are you, Chad?"

"Seventeen."

Karyanne nodded. "Ah. I'm 22. Pretty old, huh?" She laughed weakly. Chad managed a smile.

They sat down on a bench that was supposedly one of the local bus stops. Karyanne sighed ruefully. "My parents already had this serious talk with me," she explained quietly, "about my eating problem. Because my goody-two-shoes perfect little sister told them. I've only stopped eating because…god, I've never told this to anyone before, and here I am, ranting on and on to a complete _stranger._" She smiled.

Chad laughed nervously. "No, it's okay. Tell me," he said.

"Well, I'm getting married, you see," continued Karyanne with a sigh. "To my hopelessly romantic, perfect, wonderful boyfriend Steve. God, how I love him. The wedding is in like a month, and everything's been so stressful. My parents are being such freaks. My mom follows me around everywhere. My sister's been supportive, but ratting my problem out to my parents wasn't helpful. Anyway, I've found like, this _perfect_ wedding dress. It's only about 1000 dollars, but I can afford it. Problem is, they only have it in one size—extra-small." She gulped, pausing for dramatic effect. "And I'm like, a freaking _large_."

The rest of the story, Chad already knew. "Let me guess—you're trying to lose weight in order to fit in that dress, right?" he asked.

"Precisely." Karyanne couldn't help but smile. "Well, what else am I supposed to do! God, it's the perfect dress. And if they ordered another one for me in a different size, it would cost like 500 dollars more." She sighed remorsefully. "But now I know that I've…god, look at me. I'm like a walking stick. I'm like way too skinny now; I'd probably slip through the dress. I just keep thinking that it's not _enough_, you know? Like I need to keep losing weight or else I won't fit in the dress."

Chad nodded, understanding. "Yeah. It's hard when you want to be just perfect for the thing you love and want most, and you keep trying and trying until…well, you realize you'd been doing it all wrong. That you let go for no reason." He didn't even know what he was saying. The words just poured out of his mouth. But, oddly, he understood them.

For a moment Karyanne just looked at him, surprised. "Wow. You _are_ smart," she finally said.

"Hah." Chad laughed, a real laugh that he hadn't experienced for ages. "Not exactly. If I were smart, I wouldn't have done what I did weeks ago."

"And what was that?"

"I hurt the one person I love most," Chad admitted quietly, "without even knowing it."

---

**author's note: **well there ya have it ! i know this chapter wasn't much, i'm sorry. i only got ONE review since the last chapter. i think that's sort of disappointing .. it makes me feel like people don't read or even enjoy the story.but i stillwant to continue because i'm that nice. so please? review? for me? make me **want** to update. xD


	11. finally

**Author's Note:** sorry for the lack of updates. i've been busy the past week.  
and now to answer the reviews i got:

**Ambiguous Disposition** – thank you! That was one of the nicest, most encouraging review I ever got.

**ChaylorLover4Ever **– thanks for the review! Definitely more Chaylor coming soon.

**JesseMcCartneysFutureWife** – thanks for reviewing! yes, troy does belong with his dear Gabriella. But we'll see! Keep reading!

**Mylifeismine**- thanks for the review! Yes, it is sad, but I guess that just adds to the whole drama. Keep reading!

you guys give great reviews. i'd like to see more, thank you very much. well here is the next chapter! enjoy!  
_warning_: rated for minor cussing.

**Chapter Eleven – Finally**

Troy could not believe this. The police were here. At _his_ house.

He just stood staring at the window, his jaw dropped as two patrol cars pulled up to the driveway and three men in bright blue uniforms came marching up the door. _Why are they here?_ he wondered, slightly panicking.

Mrs. Bolton, in a bright red t-shirt and long jean skirt, raised her eyebrows suspiciously. "Troy…" she warned.

But her son hissed, "Mom! I swear—I didn't do anything! I don't know why they're here!"

It had been a normal Sunday afternoon for the Bolton's. The past week had been pretty basic as well. Troy, when he wasn't shooting hoops in the backyard, spent his time in St. Joseph's Hospital visiting the love of his life. Or he was being tutored chemistry on weeknights by Anna Cole, the world's most interesting, mysterious girl he'd ever met.

He and Anna had become good friends through tutoring, and Troy wondered vaguely why he hadn't met this girl before. She was so…wacky, intelligent, and mystifying. You wouldn't have been able to tell she was a whiz at chemistry. This girl, who wore dark clothing and had eyes that sparkled like the ocean, was as interesting as far as girls like Anna went. So maybe she wasn't a "freaky math type," like Gabriella, but she somehow reminded Troy so much of Gabriella, the love of his life—and that was all he needed.

Now, staring out the window at the police with slight fear in his heart, Troy felt like he needed Anna right now, at this moment. She would probably find a good reason to make him laugh, as she always did.

The doorbell rang. "I'll get it," said Troy's mom suddenly, brushing a strand of hair from her face and walking briskly toward the door. Troy hid behind a curtain, watching.

"Hello Officer," said Mrs. Bolton calmly, though Troy could detect the fear in her voice, "what can I do for you?"

One of the police, a tall guy wearing a hat and sunglasses, stepped forward and announced, "Ma'm, we need to talk to your son."

Troy's mother acted innocent. She placed a hand over her heart and said meekly, "Troy? What about? Has he been doing anything bad?" She glared at Troy from behind the curtain.

Another officer, who was short and looked like he needed a shave, nodded quickly. He looked sort of flustered at the sight of Mrs. Bolton. "Uh, yes ma'm—well no, we assume he didn't. Your son's a good boy." He coughed nervously. "I read about him in the local newspaper."

"Look, ma'm, can we just have a word with your son?" said the tall officer.

Troy's mom looked confused. "Why, yes, of course—TROY! Get over here!" she suddenly yelled. Troy meekly stepped out of his hiding place as his mom ushered the police inside. "Would you like some tea? Coffee, perhaps?" she asked them as they cautiously sat down on one of the couches in the living room.

The tall officer spoke again. "No thank you, ma'm," he said politely. Then, turning to Troy, he said, "Ah. Jack Bolton's son. You know, your dad and I were pals back in the day. He was the Wildcats basketball star. He got in a lot of trouble too. Well. Like father, like son." He smiled secretively. "Have a seat then, Troy."

Feeling nervous, Troy nodded and squatted down on the leather armchair, his knees shaking. The tall officer stuck out his hand. "I'm Officer Delano," he said formally, "and this is Officer Jenkins"—he motioned to the short, blushing one—"and Officer Stanley." He pointed at the shy, non-talking one sitting quietly next to Jenkins.

"Hi," said Troy shortly.

Jenkins immediately took out a pad of paper and pen and began to scribble something down, his face turning redder than ever. Officer Delano scratched his chin and said in a serious tone, "So Troy. We understand that you were at the residence of George and Emily Evans's on the night of September the sixteenth?"

Troy merely scratched his head. "Uh…"

"Ryan and Sharpay Evans. Do you know them?" inquired Officer Delano. "They are George and Emily's children."

"Yes," said Troy, a little too quickly.

Officer Delano smiled. "No need to be nervous, Troy. We're not going to put you in handcuffs. Now, according to my records, there was a party at the Evans's on that evening?"

_Why are they asking me about this?_ Troy wondered in his head. "Um. Yes," he replied.

"Were you there?"

"Yeah. For a little while."

There was a momentary pause; Officer Delano looked up at him with graying eyes. Jenkins was scribbling all over his pad now with speed, making Troy feel more nervous. He just wished it were all over, that they would just leave. He hadn't even done anything wrong.

Finally Delano asked, "What do you mean 'for a little while,' Troy?"

There was no other choice but to tell. So Troy opened his mouth and explained the story quickly while Delano listened, Jenkins scribbled, and Stanley sat there, also listening but not talking. He told them about Julianne Crew going up to him and dancing all seductively while her boyfriend was away. He told them about getting the phone call from St. Joseph's, telling him the awful news of Gabriella. He explained that he had to leave the party without goodbye because he wanted to see her.

After telling the story, Troy realized why they were here. _My letter jacket._ He'd left it on the couch when he was leaving, and the police probably found it and suspected that _he_ was the one responsible for setting fire to Sharpay and Ryan's house. Yes, he had heard news of the terrible fire accident—it was all over the school by now, and Troy couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for poor Sharpay and Ryan.

But still. They believed it was _him_ who started the fire?

"So you left it there on accident, right?" asked Officer Delano after hearing the story.

"Yes, Officer," Troy said.

Suddenly Officer Stanley spoke, and surprisingly his voice was low and deep, not how Troy had expected. "Can you explain the lighter?" he asked.

Troy just stared at him. "What light—"

"This," said Stanley in a cold voice, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a bright red lighter, one side completely burned. Troy stared at it for a moment, wondering where it was from.

Delano and Jenkins were raising their eyebrows at him, and he knew he had to answer. _But that's not mine, _a voice screamed inside his head. _I don't smoke! Why would I keep a lighter in my pocket if I don't smoke?_

"Officer," Troy said firmly, "that's not my lighter. I don't own one."

"Then why was it in your pocket?" sneered Officer Stanley.

Okay, now Troy was confused. He strictly did not remember a lighter being in his jacket pocket. He didn't even remember _owning_ one. But still, it somehow had gotten there, and Troy knew he couldn't back out of this one.

Finally he muttered, "I don't know, maybe someone slipped it in there…"

Stanley smiled, showing his ugly yellow teeth Troy hadn't noticed before. "Psht. A likely story, Bolton," he scoffed. Jenkins started to scribble down on his pad again while Officer Delano was shaking his head sadly.

"Well." He sighed apologetically. "I didn't think you'd actually be responsible for this, Troy. I was hoping it wouldn't be you."

This made Troy furious. "But Officer, it _wasn't_ me!" he cried in astonishment.

But Officer Delano just shook his head again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Troy. We found the lighter in the jacket, you probably left it on and burned the house down. It's okay. We know." His voice was oddly dull.

"Well, maybe," argued Troy, his voice level rising, "but I swear that I didn't put that lighter in my pocket! Someone else did!"

Stanley laughed coldly. "Oh yeah, Bolton? Who, then?" he mocked.

Unable to answer that question, Troy just glared at him, wanting to hurt him, to sock his in the face. He was certain now that it wasn't his lighter. In fact, he hadn't seen that lighter in his whole life until now. But there was no one to accuse! Where did that godforsaken lighter come from!

He was about to open his mouth in protest when there was a bang from behind him, and Jack Bolton appeared in the doorway, his face sweaty-looking—probably from basketball—and red. He was in running shoes and shorts.

"Dave Stanley," he whispered viciously, his eyes narrowing.

Officer Stanley stood up suddenly, the grin on his face growing wider. "Ah, the famous Jack Bolton. Long time no see, eh?" He smiled.

_Wait a minute,_ thought Troy, beginning to see the picture. _They know each other?_

Officer Delano also stood up, his hands on his gun pocket. "Stanley—what's going on here?" he asked.

But Stanley ignored him as he turned to face Mr. Bolton, sneering. "How have you been doing, Jack?" he asked with a malevolent grin. "Hope you haven't been getting in too much trouble, like your poor son here."

Jack Bolton growled, "What are you doing here, Stanley."

Officer Delano started to explain the situation when Troy wondered aloud, "If you don't mind my asking, Dad, how do you two like know each other?"

His dad turned and looked at him with wide eyes. "Never mind," he muttered roughly, wiping the sweat from his face. "I'll explain it to you later. I just want _him_ out of here." He pointed at Officer Stanley with shaking hands, and for once, Troy felt scared of his father, like there was this whole new side to him.

"Now Jack, is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?" snickered Stanley in a high-pitched voice, making Troy hate him even more.

Jack turned and whispered, his voice quavering, "You are _not_ my commanding—"

"Bolton, really, that is no way to treat someone of higher rank than your…well, rather _low_ position," taunted Stanley. "I mean, a basketball coach? I thought you could do better than that, Bolton. What ever happened to your scholarship dreams—?"

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, STANLEY!" roared Mr. Bolton, making Troy jump. He had never seen his father like this before, ever.

Instead, Officer Stanley just sneered again before making his dramatic exit out the door, probably to go file his nails or something. Jenkins and Delano just stood there, wondering what had just happened. Troy's dad was shaking furiously, his face going red. And Troy's mom, who had seen everything, watched him with wide, fearful eyes.

Finally she put a hand gently on his arm. "Jack," she said, in a tone Troy could not understand. "We should um, we should go."

Her husband nodded and left the room, taking big strides, not even looking once at his son. Mrs. Bolton shortly followed afterward, her face pale and unusual. Troy wondered what was going on here.

Officer Delano wiped some dust from his jeans and coughed. "Um, Troy. We will be explaining the situation with your parents, about the lighter and everything. I just want you to know that. And if you are true to your word, we'll let you off with a warning. I believe you, Troy," he said all seriously.

Troy raised an eyebrow, amazed. "You…you do?"

"Yeah." The policeman shrugged, his face now relaxing. "I've always believed you were a good kid. You're pretty great at basketball too." He smiled, and Troy returned the favor.

After the officers left, Troy's mom came in and had a serious talk with him. She asked what had happened and why they were here, and Troy calmly explained everything to her, and how he knew for certain that the lighter wasn't his. She seemed nervous about it, but thankfully she didn't ground him or put him in any other punishment. She, like Officer Delano, believed him.

"I just wish I knew where the lighter came from," Troy sighed. He really did.

Mrs. Bolton put a gentle hand on her son's shoulder and replied, "They'll get to the bottom of this, Troy. They always have."

Troy hoped she was right.

---

Ryan was furious. He tugged at the bottom of his shirt angrily. He kicked at the ground heatedly. He could not believe this was actually happening. Life, as he and his sister knew it, would never be the same. It was all falling apart.

He swore out loud, turning to face the wall. His sister Sharpay cast a sideways glance at him, worried. She put a comforting hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

_Why is this happening to us?_ he thought bitterly, trying to hold back the tears that were collecting in his eyes. _What did we do to deserve this? _He didn't want to know the answer, if there was one. He just wanted it to end, everything that was happening. What happened to the easy life? What happened to carefree, happy years where everything had been taken care of for him?

The man from the government agency coughed quietly and said those words Ryan had been dreading: "The money in both your life savings accounts went to the fire accident. At the time we did not know that your house could not be restored. Everything was burned to the ground, destroyed. There is no—no way we could rebuild. It was an unfortunate waste of thousands of dollars that we cannot bring back." He coughed again, pausing for effect. "We um, contacted your parents and told them of your living arrangements, that you have been staying with your generous friend, Zeke Jones. They are traveling by jet plane from France as we speak, and will be arriving here in a few hours' time. In the meantime, we ask that you collect what things you have from Zeke's house, and we will be locating you to a new temporary home until your parents arrive." He looked solemnly at Ryan and Sharpay.

Sharpay nodded and went to collect her brother, who was staring stonily at the hardwood floor. They went to Zeke's house in silence.

"Hey guys," said a sleepy Zeke, rubbing his eyes and answering the door. He blushed at the sight of Sharpay. "Um, I didn't see you guys here last night. Did you go to a party, or something…?"

"We were um, located by some government agency and slept in a hotel last night, Zeke." Sharpay's voice, Zeke noticed, was oddly low. "I'm sorry we didn't call to tell you; they restricted the phones in our room and…" She trailed off before shutting her mouth completely, her face bright red.

Finally Ryan spoke, his face grave. "They want us to leave," he said.

Zeke's jaw dropped in horror. "You're—you're leaving?" he gawked.

"We…have no other choice," admitted Sharpay, trying so hard not to look in Zeke's big brown eyes.

"Where are you going?"

"We'll still be in the area," replied Ryan, still looking bitter, "but we have to go with our parents, I guess. And I don't know where we're going to live. Not in Albuquerque, that's for sure." He ran fingers through his dirty blonde hair and Sharpay looked down, biting her lip. This was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Ryan knew about the feelings his sister had for Zeke, and how Zeke had the same, and he felt bad about breaking them apart when they were finally getting to know each other. It wasn't right.

As for Zeke, this was especially hard. He did not want to see either of them go. They were his _friends_. Especially Sharpay, he didn't want her to leave. They might have ended up together and lived happy lives if this stupid fire accident hadn't happened.

But then again, if the accident never happened, Sharpay would have never stayed at Zeke's house and develop slow-but-sure feelings for him.

_God,_ Zeke immediately thought as he realized this, _how stupid and selfish I am. It doesn't matter if Sharpay has feelings for me or not, as long as she's alive and okay, and happy. That's all that matters…her happiness. _He looked down at his feet, feeling a rush of shame and fear swelling up in his gut. _Even if it's not with me. _

He finally looked up before saying, "So…you need to get your things."

"Um, yeah," said Ryan. Sharpay still wasn't looking at Zeke.

He stepped through to let them inside and get whatever "things" they had—which wasn't much, except for the clothes Zeke had lent them—and then they all stood outside in the driveway, waiting for the government agency to pick them up. Sharpay was dreading this moment, leaving Zeke. She bit her lip so hard that it almost bled and kept staring worriedly at the stone driveway.

Ryan's dog Pepsi was off in the grass chasing some birds, and if any car passed by the scene, they wouldn't be able to tell that it was not a happy one. It looked pretty normal from another person's point of view. Like everything was just fine, and that it was just another perfectly wonderful Sunday morning in New Mexico.

Finally the big black car pulled into the driveway, and out came two tall muscular guys wearing glasses and tuxedos, the usual attire. Sharpay fought her tears. This was it. This was goodbye.

She and Ryan turned to face Zeke. Ryan patted him on the back and said roughly, "Thanks, man." And then he carefully stepped inside the big black stretch car, leaving his sister and Zeke alone.

Sharpay bit her lip, wondering how in the world was she going to do this. Zeke just stood there, shuffling his feet nervously and staring at the ground. He didn't want to say goodbye…not without telling her, at least. This was the moment of truth.

He glanced up just as Sharpay did and they almost clunked heads. And then he whispered, "Well, I guess this is…you're leaving."

"Yes," Sharpay whispered back, just as one of the men in tuxedos coughed, reminding her that they were in a hurry and had to leave as quickly as possible.

"Um." They were now both aware how close their faces were, so that there was only a tiny little one-inch gap between them. Sharpay felt the rest of the world around her stop, like a big freeze frame. She knew that this was it.

And so she leaned in and kissed him first, right there on the driveway, her face blushing crimson.

The kiss lasted only about ten, fifteen seconds before they finally pulled apart. Zeke's face was smiling, a mixture of relief and happiness. Sharpay was amazed, not believing she'd just done that. It was her first kiss, and she'd made the first move.

And then Zeke was leaning in, whispering softly in her ear, "Sharpay, I love you." And then he kissed her long enough before she managed to gasp, "I love you too, Zeke. I've always loved you."

Inside the car, Ryan was watching them and grinning.

Finally Sharpay went slowly to the car, her face glowing. She waved one last goodbye to Zeke as the car started to pull away before switching gears, setting off down the street. And Zeke watched, amazed, as it disappeared down the road and out of sight, of reach, forever.

It took three hours to get to the place where they were going. Where that was exactly, Ryan and Sharpay didn't know. They didn't really care either. Sharpay was quiet the whole ride, too thrilled of her actions with Zeke to even speak. Ryan was pretty happy for her, but he was also sad knowing that they might not ever see each other again.

Finally they reached their destination—a small, dry town called Desert Valley that lay in the middle of the humid desert wasteland. You wouldn't even be able to tell it was a town; it was so tiny.

"This is where you'll be residing," said the man from the government agency in a rough voice, "until your parents come. They will be arriving in a few hours time but they will have to stay overnight until we can come pick you up."

Ryan asked, "And when will that be?"

The man put up two fingers, as if they couldn't count. "Two days, at the least," he mumbled.

"Wait, you mean we'll be _here_ alone for two days!" Sharpay yelped, finally able to speak.

"Why here?" asked her brother in a pleading voice.

"Because it's the only place that's got someone willing to take you in their home for _free_," replied the government man. "It's only two days, maybe a week, depending on how long it takes for your parents to arrive and how many days it takes for us to settle things on the…er, contract. In the meantime, you are not allowed to leave Desert Valley, understood?"

Ryan and Sharpay nodded.

"Okay. You will be living with a woman named Lynda; she's a very nice lady. She'll be here to pick you up in two minutes. All right, you two will be okay? We have to go. If you need us for anything, call this number." The man from the government handed Ryan a card with his name and number on it. "But only for emergencies. We can't have you two calling us every second. Lynda will take care of you. We'll see you in a week, Miss Evans, Mister Evans." He gave them a tiny nod before disappearing into the car and driving off, leaving the two alone in the middle of…well, nowhere.

For a moment they just stood there in disbelief. Sharpay couldn't believe they'd just been dropped off in this foreign, desert wasteland. And man, it was hot. She could already feel herself melting.

She looked at Ryan and whispered, "What are we going to do, Ry?"

"We wait." He sat down on a nearby bench, adjusting his orange cap.

"For who? That Lynda woman?" Sharpay hissed.

There was a pause before Ryan finally looked back at her. "Well. Yes. What other choice do we have, Sharpay? We can't just run away from here."

His sister sniffed and sat down on the hot wooden bench beside him. "This place sucks," she muttered under her breath.

"Tell me about it."

"You know, when I get my hands on that stupid _bitch_ that burned our house down and ruined our lives—" Sharpay began heatedly, but Ryan put up a hand and told her to be quiet. They waited in the humid heat for what seemed like hours until finally an old Volkswagen beetle that was falling apart came by and stopped in front of them. A woman in sunglasses and a long breezy skirt hopped outside, smiling.

She peered at them through the dust and heat. "You two are Ryan and Sharpie Evans?" she called.

"_Sharpay_," corrected Sharpay in a bitter tone, already starting to not like this woman.

"Whoops, my bad." The lady smiled. "Welcome to Desert Valley. I'm Lynda."

Ryan smiled politely and then when Lynda's back was turned, he stuck out his tongue and made a face. His sister laughed appreciatively. They went into Lynda's Volkswagen—which smelled strongly of paint and something horrible, like rubber—and drove in silence while Lynda sang some old Beatles songs on the radio. Her voice, Ryan noted, wasn't half bad.

They pulled into a small dusty road, Lynda still singing at the top of her lungs. At the end of the road was a small wooden house that looked more like a shack, and next to it was an even older-looking barn. There were no animals inside, just piles and piles of hay and other things Ryan couldn't see.

Lynda, having stopped her singing, hopped out of the car, opened the trunk and pulled out Ryan and Sharpay's luggage. She dragged them along the path until she stopped in front of the old barn. "Okay this," she said proudly to her guests—who were huffing and panting behind her—"is my secret laboratory. It holds all my greatest masterpieces and treasures." She yanked open the door, leaving the luggage, and stepped inside. Cautious, Ryan and Sharpay followed.

It was dark and cool inside the barn, and little specks of sunlight were peeking out through the holes in the barn's walls. Lynda just stood there beaming while Ryan and Sharpay looked on. They were amazed. They had never seen this much _stuff_. There were piles of old tires, car parts, and rusty pots and pans. Pieces of fabric and glass were assorted in boxes along the sides of the barn. But it was everything in the middle—sheltered under the coolness of the barn and showered by small specks of light—that made this place amazing.

They were statues. Statues of people, animals, figures, and other various things. But what made them unique was that they were made of, well, trash. Scrap metal. Plastic. You could see it in their texture, the way the soda cans and bottle caps were meshed together to form the figure. It was incredible.

Sharpay touched the hand of a small sculpture of a little boy and his dog. The dog's eyes were made of what looked like parts from spoons. "This is so awesome," she whispered, gazing in amazement.

Lynda smiled. "It is, isn't it? Most people would say this is just junk. But with all this so-called 'junk,' you can make a lifetime of masterpieces, rather than just throw it all away."

"I go around the neighborhood collecting people's trash if they're willing to give it to me," she continued, a pompous smile on her face. "I visit junkyards, old auto shops. And I put all this stuff together with my imagination to form…this." She gestured around the barn at all the scrap metal statues.

Ryan, who was examining a piece of an old piano, said out loud, "It's really cool how you make all this stuff with things people normally throw away."

"Well why throw it away, when you can use it for art?" Lynda laughed. "It's like throwing away something that you really need, something you _want_ and have worked hard for. You just don't do it. You don't throw away dreams."

Ryan glanced over uneasily at Sharpay, remembering this moment. _You don't throw away dreams, _Lynda had said. But in his heart he knew it was too late—they already had.

**Author's Note:** alrighty! i hoped you liked that one .. well please review guys! it keeps me updating!


	12. a different Troy

_TroyandGabriellafanFOREVER:_ thanks for reviewing! Yeah, I'm glad they fessed up too. It's too bad she has to leave…

_ChaylorFnficPrincess:_ hi, thanks for the review! I do feel a bit sorry for Ryan & Sharpay. Well keep reading, to all of you!

Author's Note: surprising stuff in this chapter! enjoy!

**Chapter Twelve – A Different Troy **

"Taylor." Mrs. McKessie put down her fork and looked pointedly at her daughter from across the dining table. Taylor stared back, feeling a lump rising in her throat. Her dad also put down his utensils and stopped eating to look at his daughter.

"I've noticed um...some sort of _weight change_ in you," said Mrs. McKessie in a serious tone. "It's not normal. You don't usually eat like this, Taylor."

_Well,_ Taylor thought, trying hard not to burst out in tears, _it's either now or never. _

She gave her parents a long pause and a serious look—for dramatic effect—before mumbling, "It's not eating. Mom, Dad, please don't kill me. It was all a mistake; I never meant for _this_ to happen. I mean it," she added to make sure she got her point across. Her parents just stared at her until she mumbled, "I'm pregnant."

And then there was the most awful moment of silence that Taylor could not bear. Her mom just kept her eyes on her food, a single sound not escaping from her lips. Mr. McKessie was just staring straight ahead, his lips clamped together in shock. Taylor wanted to shake them, anything to make them say _something._ She couldn't take the silence.

Finally her father spoke. "Well," he said, standing up suddenly and shaking the table. "I'll be in my office thinking this through." He got up, slammed his dirty silverware into the already piling sink, and left.

As he disappeared Taylor's mom whispered, her voice very thin, "Were you raped?"

"No, Mom. It was an accident; we were just fooling around one night and…" Taylor felt her voice fade away, embarrassed. She wondered if her parents were angry with her.

"You and Chad?"

"Yes." Taylor could hardly speak. There was another few moments' silence and then abruptly her mother stood up and gave her a giant hug. She wrapped her daughter in her arms tightly. There were little tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

She gave Taylor a sad smile. "Oh, honey," she said. "I'm so happy for you."

Taylor's jaw dropped in astonishment. "You're _happy_?"

Mrs. McKessie sighed and sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs. "Well, not technically _happy_-happy, but happy enough. I mean, you're only 17…" She paused slightly, running fingers through her short dark brown hair. "But I know you, Taylor. You're not irresponsible like a lot of young mothers I know." She smiled sadly again. Taylor returned the favor.

She pulled out another chair and sat down. "Mom. I just want to say thanks. You know, for not getting all in my face about this. Do you think Dad's mad at me?" she asked.

"Mad? Oh honey, no. He's just—in a state of shock. You know how fathers get. I mean you _are_ quite young."

"Yeah." Taylor sighed and thought this over. Her mother was right: this was going to be a major responsibility. A human life. And she was the one taking care of it.

"Did you tell Chad yet?" asked Mrs. McKessie curiously. "After all, he is—"

"The father," Taylor finished, suddenly feeling low and guilty. "Yeah, I know."

"Well did you tell him?"

Taylor sighed, her face looking flat and dejected. "No," she admitted.

Her mom nodded and told her, "It's okay. I was already on my fifth month by the time I finally worked up the nerve to tell your father. It takes time." Another peaceful few minutes of silence. Taylor was too busy taking this new piece of information in.

At last she sank lower into her chair and mumbled, "I'm scared."

Her mother smiled ruefully and put a gentle hand on her daughter's growing stomach, where the baby was forming. She said in a calm voice, "It's going to be okay. I remember when I was having you, all those seventeen years ago. I was scared as hell. But something in my mind just kept telling me it was all going to work out. Everything was going to be just fine. And look where I am today? My God. I have a beautiful, caring daughter who knows…well, a lot more stuff about calculus and chemistry than I do." She grinned.

Taylor grinned back. "I hope so," she said. At that moment she felt a soft kick in her stomach. Surprised, she looked up to find her mother beaming back at her. The baby was kicking.

---

This couldn't be happening. What was Kelsi doing here, sitting in the waiting room of a therapy center? It was a perfect Friday afternoon. She should be out with friends, doing something fun. And then she thought in horror, _wait, what friends?_ God. As if anyone even knew Kelsi Neilson existed.

She and her mother were waiting patiently at the therapy center to see if they can help Karyanne with her eating disorder. The therapist, Dr. Fonda, was supposedly good working with overdramatic teenagers. She was a professional and that was why Mr. and Mrs. Neilson hired her. Karyanne had been in Dr. Fonda's office for about an hour now.

Mrs. Neilson turned to her daughter, her face pained. "Kelsi," she said, "I know you didn't want to be here today. But I just…I want you to be there for your sister, especially since she's going through a lot these days. Can you promise me that much?" Her eyes were starting to tear up.

Kelsi nodded. "Of—of course," she said meekly, sinking lower into her chair. "I will."

"Oh, Kelsi, thank you. I know you have a life and you're a teenager too, but right now we have to focus on your sister. She's depressed. Her wedding might be moved to a later date," said Kelsi's mother in a fearful tone.

"It's going to be moved?" Kelsi asked, disbelieving.

Her mom sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. It could take years for her to be fully recovered from her disorder. We don't know if it's even going to _happen_ anymore…"

_What_? Kelsi nearly dropped the magazine she'd been reading. "You're canceling it?" she cried.

"If we have to. Therapy isn't cheap, honey. You can't pay for both a wedding _and_ rehabilitation."

Wow. Kelsi hadn't thought of this before. If her parents cancelled Karyanne's wedding, she would surely be heartbroken. She'd been dreaming about this wedding for years! And what would happen with Steve? Did Steve even know about what was happening to his fiancée?

Kelsi bit her lip, as she always did when she was deep in thought. If the wedding was cancelled, everything would change. Take a huge turn for the worse. She had to stop this.

"Mom, you can't cancel Karyanne's wedding."

Mrs. Neilson sighed again and leaned further back into her seat. "It's not like I want to, sweetie. I know your sister has dreamed about a beautiful wedding since her Barbie years. But what can I do? Steve is away in San Francisco and it's not like I can ask him for money. We've already borrowed too much. I guess we'll just have to settle for a chapel and um, simpler dresses."

Simpler dresses? That would mean Karyanne would have to return her elegant bride's gown that she'd spent hundreds of dollars on. The one that she kept complaining wouldn't fit her, and that…she had to lose some weight to get into, but would be no problem. Well, it turned out to be a very big problem.

Fearful, Kelsi clutched her mom's knee. "Mom, you can't return her dress. She's in love with that dress," she said matter-of-factly.

"Well she'll have to deal with a simple gown for now," replied her mom. "And I'll call the community center to rent one of their rooms for the reception. Catering, hmm…now that will be a challenge…"

The community center? Kelsi could not believe what she was hearing. Her sister would die laughing if she heard her wedding would be in a quiet little chapel and the reception in the local community center. And knowing Karyanne, she would never give up her perfect white bridal dress. Not even for therapy.

God, this was going to be hard.

---

Anna Cole was spending her Friday night at home rearranging her CD collection, instead of out downtown where she belonged. She'd been grounded that weekend for fighting with her little sister, Adrienne, and so she was stuck at home doing unnecessary things—like alphabetizing compact disks.

_God,_ she thought bitterly, adding _The Academy Is…_ album to the pile, _what a way to spend a perfectly nice Friday evening. This sucks. _

Anna was about to add the _Hellogoodbye _album when she heard a sudden tap on the window. _What the hell,_ was her first thought She maneuvered over to see what was the fuss, and doing so she knocked over a few CDs. She slid the glass open and peered down.

To her surprise, it was Troy Bolton standing alone on the wet front lawn, a pebble clutched in his hand. He looked desperately up at her.

"Hey, Troy!" called Anna, smiling widely. "What're you doing here? There's no tutoring on Fridays!"

"I know!" he yelled back. "I need to talk to you!"

This made Anna laugh. She tossed back her head, shaking her hair wildly. "Fine, I'll be right down!" she shouted, shutting the window closed with a slam. She was sort of glad Troy was here—it meant doing something not having to do with organizing CDs.

As she made her way downstairs, Adrienne poked her head out of the bathroom door and teased, "Where are you going? You're grounded!"

Anna simply shut the door in her face as she passed. "Shut up, you little shrimp," she snapped.

"You're not supposed to go anywhere or I'll tell Dad!" Adrienne yelled back, but her sister ignored her. Anna threw open the front door and there was Troy, looking quite sad in his faded jeans and old American Eagle hoodie.

She grinned up at him. "You called?"

Troy just stared at her. She looked nice tonight. Her hair was pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, instead of down as usual. She wore grey sweats and a shirt from Anchor Blue. Her face wasn't smothered in eyeliner like it normally was, and Troy had to admit it looked sort of cute.

He didn't notice he'd been staring until Anna finally coughed and said, "What, do I have something on my face?"

Troy shook his head back to reality. "No, it's just…you look different tonight, Anna," he said.

"Bad different or good different?" asked Anna, her head tilted.

"Just…" Troy was struggling to find the right words. "Different. In a different way."

Another moment of awkwardness. Troy felt like melting on the spot, wishing he hadn't said anything at all. He didn't even really know what he was doing here. And then Anna just smiled a really nice smile and replied, "Your thoughts really puzzle me, Bolton. I don't know what goes on in that basketball-slash-Gabriella-filled head of yours."

Ha, ha. Troy couldn't help but laugh. "Well I don't know what goes on in that crazy head of yours either, Cole," he retorted with a grin.

"Anna! You better get your butt in here or else!" yelled a little girl's voice from inside the house. Troy looked up inquiringly.

"That's Adrienne, my sister," said Anna, waving a hand. "Ignore her. So what did you want to talk about, Bolton? Because really, I haven't got all night." She smiled, but the truth was, she did have all night. In fact, she had all _year_ if she wanted to. She would talk to her friend Troy Bolton for as long as she could, just because he was an interesting guy.

Still curious, Troy wanted to know what plans she had. "Oh yeah?" he challenged. "What are you planning, another excursion downtown? What do you _do_ there anyway?"

Anna pretended to be offended by this. "For your information, Mr. Basketball-Know-It-All, my trips downtown aren't 'excursions.' I go clubbing at this new place called Mondo. Maybe, if you want, you could come along with me sometime, Bolton." She gave Troy a secretive smile.

He laughed again. "Clubbing? Wow, Anna, I didn't know you were quite the party-type."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Bolton," Anna told him simply, stepping out onto the front porch with him and shutting the door (thus drowning out Adrienne's annoying yells). They were now alone surrounded by the dim light of the streetlamp across the road and the twinkling stars. It was, Anna had to agree, a very nice night.

They were silent for a few minutes, looking uncomfortably around. Troy felt his heart thumping wildly, but he couldn't understand why. He wished someone would talk, break this awkward quietness.

Finally he said, "So. I needed to talk."

Anna looked over at him. "Okay. Talk."

At first he didn't know what to say, but then the words came pouring out like a waterfall. Anna listened carefully as Troy told her the story of how the police suspected that _he_ was the one who purposely set fire to Ryan and Sharpay's house. He told her about his father and Officer Stanley's big quarrel, and that he didn't understand how they knew each other. He explained to her about how they found a lighter in his jacket, and that it wasn't his.

When he finished, he asked her, "Do you believe me? That I didn't do it?"

Anna just smiled. "You think I don't?" she replied. "Why not? I'm your friend aren't I?"

_Friend_. For some reason, the word "friend" hit Troy like a baseball bat to his head, real hard. Turning red, he looked down at his feet and said, "Well. Yeah." He couldn't force himself to look at Anna, who was gazing right at him.

"Troy. Is something wrong?" she asked suddenly.

It was a difficult question. Even Troy didn't know what was wrong, if there even was something wrong. The first thing that came to his mind was Gabriella, and how much he missed her. How much he wanted her back. But there was nothing Anna could do about the coma. She helped though, by making him laugh and feel much better about himself and his problems. Sometimes, just being with Anna made him forget about Gabriella. He knew it was wrong but so what?

And then Anna was right beside him, sitting down on the steps next to him. Like a true friend, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a warm hug. Troy felt safe in her arms, like an immense shield of protection and comfort was over him. He liked it.

"What ever it is, everything will be okay," Anna whispered gently into his ear. "It may or may not work out the way you want it to, but it'll work out. You'll see. Gabriella will be back."

Troy liked her voice…soft and whispery, like the wind. She was an angel of comfort.

"Talk to me, Troy," Anna said softly.

It was weird, Anna calling him by his first name. He'd gotten so used to the name "Bolton" that he'd almost forgotten.

Troy turned and pulled away from Anna, and the shield of comfort vanished. She was just staring at him now, her eyes wide and her face quite pale. He looked away to avoid her light, hazel eyes, which sparkled like diamonds under the lamplight. He could feel his heart swelling in his chest.

"Troy?"

And then he turned around again so that their faces were inches apart now. He could feel it coming. His heart was about ready to burst. He found himself leaning in, his lips softly brushing hers, and waited as the kiss deepened—she was kissing him _back._ And he was liking it very much. They both did.

But then a small part of guilt crept up his shoulders and into his mind. This wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be doing this, kissing Anna Cole. He was supposed to be thinking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, Gabriella Montez.

_What am I doing?_

He pulled apart, suddenly, and Anna's eyes grew wide. "Am I doing something…?" she murmured, glancing up at him, but Troy got up and left without a word, his feet making light sounds against the pavement. He had to leave as soon as possible, even though in his heart he knew he didn't want to. He couldn't be doing this.

And Anna watched, her face pale and heartbreaking, as Troy disappeared across the silent street and out of view.

---

When Troy got home—which only took five minutes because he was running and his house was only two blocks away—he immediately retreated to his room and lay down on his bed, looking blankly up at the ceiling. He felt like a gust of wind had been knocked right out of him. He wondered, _what the hell just happened?_ _Did I just kiss _Anna Cole?

No, okay, this wasn't happening. He didn't just do that. He needed to think. He needed to see Gabriella right now, at this moment, and then everything would be fine. Gabriella brought warm memories to his heart. He didn't need to think about Anna Cole…but that kiss was _amazing_…there were sparks in his eyes…and Anna had kissed him back…

Troy's dreamy thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his bedroom door opening. He looked up, startled, to see his dad walking in. The Famous Coach Bolton. But instead of looking overjoyed with good news about upcoming basketball, Jack Bolton's face was dark and gloomy. His eyes were unusually gray, and he seemed a lot older than Troy thought he was.

"Um, Dad?" Troy sat up, aware that this man, his father, was really in presence.

Jack just sat down on the bed beside his son and croaked in a low voice, "I did something wrong Troy. Something very wrong."

Um. Okay. Troy scratched his head in confusion. He had no idea what his dad was talking about.

"I…when the police officers came, and I saw Dave—I just lost it. I couldn't stand the sight of him, not again, not after…" He trailed off, looking away somewhere else. Then he coughed and continued, telling Troy the whole story, all he needed to know. "Dave Stanley and I were best friends throughout childhood. We did everything together. We went to field trips, movies, even a few years of karate classes. We were on the local Albuquerque basketball team as best friends. And then come high school at East, I made the Wildcats team and he didn't. He got kind of mad, but we stayed friends anyway. And then, with basketball games and school, we just sort of drifted apart. And Dave became jealous of me. I was playmaker on the team; I was popular and had a lot of friends, and a great girlfriend. So he started to hate me and we became slow but sure enemies.

"The truth was," Troy's father continued sadly, "I kind of missed him. Stanley I mean. He and I were best pals! I missed those good old days. Until that Saturday morning, the day of the basketball championships against North High. My dad was taking me over there. We were talking about my future the whole drive. I told him I wanted to become a professional NBA athlete, and he said I had to work really hard and earn a—scholarship, which wasn't that hard to get in those days but things were really starting to climb up. Anyway when we were done I was really determined to impress the basketball scouts that would be watching in the crowd that day, and hoping that maybe they would offer me a full time basketball scholarship at CSU or something. So when we started to actually play, we were starting off really good. Around halftime things were falling apart. North was up ahead by ten full points, and we were lagging behind. We were just so out of it that day, and everyone was starting to lose faith in us. I knew the scouts were watching, so I tried to put on a good show. But I missed every shot, failed every pass. We ended up losing the biggest game of the year. And then I was so pissed off I started throwing things in the locker room—something you should never do, Troy—and when I got out I saw a man in a tuxedo staring at me. I didn't know who he was so I asked him and then I realized he was one of the scouts." Coach Bolton sighed and wiped some sweat off his forehead.

Troy looked up at his dad, curious. He wanted to know what would happen next.

"The guy said, 'Are you Jack Bolton?' And I got very excited, naturally. So I said yes, and then he smiled and out of nowhere came Stanley. He laughed and went up to the scout and said loudly, 'That's the one, _Dad_. Ass-jerk, isn't he?' And then they both laughed and went away." Jack bit his lip in frustration. "As expected, I was mortified, embarrassed, and of course angry. So I did something very wrong, Troy."

"What'd you do?" his son asked, very anxious now.

Jack Bolton looked at him and a very small smile crept onto his face. "I punched him."

At that moment Troy couldn't help but smile. "You…punched him. Which one? Dave or Mr. Stanley?" he asked.

"Who do you think? That jerk Dave."

"Haha. Funny, Dad. I didn't think you'd have it in you," Troy replied with a grin.

"Yeah." His father smiled thoughtfully to himself. "Well anyway, Troy, that's not the point. The point is that I did something wrong and I know I shouldn't have. Dave's father reported me and I did some community service hours picking up trash. And—I never got my scholarship," Jack finished grimly.

Wow. At first Troy couldn't believe it. How could his own dad, the basketball star of the seventies, _not_ get a basketball scholarship? And then it hit him. _That's why he wants us to do so good in the finals. He wants me to get a scholarship…and not mess up this time._ Troy felt sorry for his father. He'd worked so hard all those years to get to the top, and all he ended up becoming was a basketball coach for an old team he used to love.

Suddenly Troy was angry. "This is all Stanley's fault," he growled, a fist forming in his hand.

Jack sighed and uncurled his son's angry fist, saying in a slow, sad voice, "Troy. There's nothing we can do about it now. We can't settle arguments through violence; it just isn't right. Anyway that was years ago, before I even met your mother. Dave went to law school and became a police officer, just like his dad, who turned out to be a stupid guy in a stupid suit trying to fool around with me because his son said so. And I had a few jobs before I became coach of the East High Wildcats." He smiled vaguely.

"Wow." There was a small lump in Troy's throat. "And you kept all this from me for years. Now I know why I have to play hard and uh, earn a scholarship for college."

"No, that's now what I want," his father replied easily.

Confused, Troy looked up. "Huh? Wait, am I missing something here or…?"

"What I want is for you to enjoy the game of basketball, have fun with it. After all, it's just a game right?" The tired basketball coach-slash-father smiled, proud of his son. "And whether you want a scholarship or not is entirely up to you. My dad left me that choice, and I'm going to do the same."

This was incredible. Not only had Troy's dad told him like all the little secrets of his life, but he was also leaving Troy with a choice. But Troy knew what he wanted to do, of course. He smiled and told him, "Well Dad, what do _you_ think I'd want to do? Basketball is pretty much the only option."

The coach grinned back. "I just wish I'd have told you this sooner, Troy. I guess I didn't have the heart. And that was wrong. I'm sorry. You know, son, if there's anything you want to talk about…"

Whoa. Hey, back up there. _Did he just call me "son?" _

Whatever. Troy got back to the point. Looking down, he said, "Yeah, I know Dad." He felt sick with all these new surprises going on. He didn't want to really talk, but his father did.

"Is something wrong?"

That was the second time someone had asked. "Dad, what do you do if you have an unconscious girlfriend in the hospital and you can't lose her because you love her to death, but in the meantime you—you think you might be falling in love with someone else?" Troy suddenly blurted, a heavy weight in his chest.

There was a slight pause as Mr. Bolton tried to take this in. He scratched his chin and said officially, "I don't know. I'd probably end up just being friends with the girl in the hospital and asking the other girl out, since she's actually _alive_. Well I don't know, but that's what I would most likely do. Why?"

Troy was shocked. "You'd dump Gabriella?" he cried.

"Wait, Gabriella? Troy, is there another girl?" the coach asked, incredulous.

_What?_ The truth was, Troy had never thought of Anna as "another girl." That sounded like he was so cheating on the love of his life. "No!" he cried in disbelief. Then his voice softened. "It's just…she's really nice and sweet and funny, a lot like Gabby, and she has the nicest eyes. We sort of kissed today, and she was kissing back. And then I felt bad so I ran off." He sighed, wondering what Anna was doing at that moment. Was she mad at him? Would she forget about him? Was she depressed?

"Whoa." Troy's dad scratched his head in deep thought. "That's a lot of stuff you've got on your chest. Why didn't you bother telling me this before?"

Troy's answer came quick as lightning. "Because you never came to me for anything besides basketball," he replied easily that the words slipped right out of his mouth. His dad stared at him and nodded, seeming to understand.

Another awkward pause. "Yeah…yeah, that's true," Mr. Bolton admitted. He stood up, patting his son on the back. "All I have to say is this. Do what your heart tells you to. Not your mind. If you like this other girl more than you like Gabriella, then heck, go for it. If you want a scholarship because your _heart_ tells you to, then work hard for it. Just follow your heart, Troy, not your mind. Don't end up making a mistake like I did. I know it sounds cheesy, but…listen to your heart, Troy." These were his final words before he walked off and left, not bothering to shut the door.

These words stabbed Troy like a needle. He'd never heard his dad talk like that before, but it all made sense. It somehow connected, like a giant puzzle. And all of a sudden he knew what he wanted—or had, in his case—to do.

**Author's Note:** wow! a pretty big change for Troy there! well please review and I'll update sooner !


	13. Heart to Heart

**author's note: **I know I haven't updated in a while. but my school started & I've been busy with homework. sorry ! welll hope you enjopy this extra - long chapter.

**  
Chapter Thirteen – Heart to Heart**

"It's not fair," Ryan was saying as he helped himself to some mashed potatoes. "I mean, why won't they let us see our parents yet? Why did we have to come here? And more importantly, what's going to happen to the house? And they didn't even let us know whether they found any leads as to who started the fire!"

The three of them—Ryan, Sharpay, and Lynda—were sitting closely together in Lynda's teeny kitchen, eating dinner. It had been three days since the Evans' arrival at Desert Valley, and they still hadn't heard anything from the government agency. They were both starting to get anxious. Lynda had tried to help by making simple dinner and was awfully quiet while her guests ranted on about how much they were missing.

"Yeah, and what about school?" questioned Sharpay. "Don't take it I'm a fan of learning, but aren't we missing out on our education?"

Then Ryan set down his forkful of mashed potatoes and looked pointedly at Lynda. "It's not like we don't like it here. This place is pretty cool—peaceful and quiet, you know. But we have to go back and find out what's going on. Is it possible that you can…?" he began, but Lynda soon interrupted.

"If you're about to ask me to drive the both of you back to Albuquerque," she said firmly, putting her hands up, "I can't. Mr. Jenkins told me to keep you two here, and make sure you stay."

Sharpay looked helplessly at her brother, shrugging her shoulders. "Wait, Mr. Who?" she asked.

"Mr. Jenkins. He's the man from the government, in charge of you two."

"He doesn't get to make the decision on where we stay!" interjected Ryan angrily.

Lynda sighed, settling down her fork and spoon neatly on her plate. "I know," she said calmly. "But what can we do? His job is two protect you. _My_ job is to protect you. It's still not safe, because we know the person who started the fire is out there, and he's got a grudge against you. A grudge big enough to want to kill you."

Wow. Neither Ryan nor Sharpay had thought of this before. They were too busy worrying about what was going to happen to them that they hadn't thought about this guy, the sick prankster. Sharpay was still mad at the police for suspecting he was Troy, _the_ Troy, but she then realized that they could be right.

There had been a lighter in Troy's jacket pocket.

_But Troy doesn't even smoke!_ A voice in Sharpay's head was arguing back.

Unless…Sharpay's worst fears were confirmed. How did they know that? For all everyone knew, Troy might actually smoke. Why else would he keep the lighter in his pocket?

_But there were no cigarette packs,_ the voice retorted. True. The police hadn't found the jacket to contain cigarettes. Unless, well, Troy took them with him after he fled.

Suddenly Sharpay felt guilty. _How could I possibly be thinking that!_ She knew in her heart that Troy was innocent. Troy couldn't smoke…he wasn't that type of person. He wasn't that shallow to hold a grudge against Sharpay and Ryan, big enough to want to hurt them. No, he wouldn't do that. He was their _friend_.

Ryan and Lynda were looking at Sharpay all funny. Ryan waved a hand in front of his sister's face. "Shar…are you okay?" he asked her.

Realizing where she was, Sharpay blinked twice and went back into reality. "I…yeah. I'm fine. I was just thinking, that's all," she replied dubiously.

Lynda sighed again and put a gentle hand on her arm. "Sharpay. I know you're mad that this is happening to you. I know you're upset that the police suspect Troy. I understand how you feel. And god, I believe you too. I know Troy had to leave that night because he heard about poor Gabriella—"

"Wait. You know Gabriella? And how did you know about the police's suspicion of Troy?" asked Ryan, amazed.

There was a pause and then Lynda spoke, her voice calm and easygoing. "I know the full story. Police called me a few days before you both came and told me everything, including their suspects. And how do I know about Gabriella's condition, you ask?" She paused again and gave them each a short smile. "I'm her aunt."

For a moment Ryan and Sharpay just sat there, taking this all in. Ryan was speechless. They were in the house of Gabriella Montez's _aunt._ Who knew? He looked over at Lynda and then saw the resemblances. Unlike Gabriella, Lynda had tanned skin, probably from all those days creating artwork in the hot New Mexican sun. But they both had the same eyes—deep brown, the color of tree trunks—and the same appreciative, happy laugh. But it was Lynda's hair that reminded Ryan so much of Troy's pretty girlfriend. Dark and wavy, just like Gabriella's. It was no surprise anymore.

Sharpay smiled again and then stuck out her hand. Taken aback, Lynda shook it uncomfortably and wondered if she'd done the right thing by telling them.

"Hello, Lynda _Montez,_" said Sharpay. Lynda grinned.

---

After dinner, the three were sitting on the couches in the spacious living room, drinking coffees and watching _Whose Line Is It Anyway?_ on television. They were mostly laughing and talking amongst themselves. They were really starting to enjoy each other's company.

The truth was, Lynda hadn't been this happy in a long time. She felt so comfortable around Ryan and Sharpay, as if they were her own children. She missed herself being this way, happy and smiling and laughing. It was like being the old Lynda Montez again.

Finally Sharpay finished her coffee and leaned back into her chair, getting sort of comfortable. She smiled politely and asked Lynda, "So what about you? Are you married or what?"

"Oh," said Lynda, startled by this question. It was a rather personal one. She smiled anyway. "Well I…no," she admitted truthfully.

"Are you divorced?" Sharpay asked.

"No. I've never been married," Lynda replied quietly, setting down her coffee on the table.

Ryan gawked at her. "You? Never been married? No way."

"Yeah, look at you, Lynda! You're really pretty."

This made Lynda turn red and blush. She'd never heard anyone call her "pretty" before. This was very surprising. The color rose to her cheeks and she put a hand on her face. "I…I'm not pretty," she said.

Again to her surprise, both Ryan and Sharpay burst out in a fit of giggles. "Lynda, just look at yourself!" Sharpay cried, still laughing. "You really look like Gabriella. So how can you _not_ be pretty?"

"Yeah," agreed Ryan. He still couldn't believe his sister had just called Gabriella "pretty," since he thought the only thing Sharpay thought was beautiful was…well, herself. But Sharpay had changed over the past few months, and he liked it. "And you've got a great home, plenty of money I'll bet, and you have talent. I don't know anyone else who knows how to make sculptures out of everyday trash."

Lynda smiled in spite of herself. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that," she replied.

Suddenly Sharpay got off of her chair and sat down on the couch beside Lynda, giving her an eye-to-eye look. "Are you lonely?" she asked curiously.

There was a momentary pause. Lynda decided it would be best to tell the truth of her emotions. She took a sip of coffee and then began, "I'll be honest with you two, since you guys are so curious about my life. I've never been so happy before. Ever since I graduated college, I dreamed of finding the right guy that I can love the right way, and that he would love me back. Years and years passed and he never came. Meanwhile my older sister Julia, Gabriella's mom, had gotten married to this really amazing guy named Trevor, and I was so…I was so jealous of her. She'd gotten what I always wanted. A few years after their marriage they had Gabriella, who was growing up to be a beautiful young girl. She used to come to my house and we would play together. She loved me very, very much, and I do too."

Lynda took a deep breath and paused in her story, thinking about her wonderful niece. God, how she missed her.

"Anyway," she continued, taking another warm sip of coffee, "I was beginning to lose all hope of ever finding Mr. Right. I decided to move away from California—that's where all of us lived back then—and down here, to Desert Valley. Leaving Gabriella was especially hard. She kept tugging at my arm and telling me not to go. I didn't want to leave her, but…I knew I had to. There's just something about this place that keeps me together.

"When I moved down here, my first few years were wonderful ones. Everyone was so nice to me. That's pretty much how it all went until Julia's husband Trevor died." Lynda sighed. "We were all devastated. I had to travel back up to California for the funeral. After that, Julia started working, probably an attempt to try and forget Trevor. She got a busy job as a lawyer in a corporate office that moved around, so she and Gabriella kept going everywhere as far as Boston. And then one winter, just a year ago, I told Julia to take a break from all her work and take a vacation. So she went somewhere in the mountains with Gabriella for two weeks, at some ski lodge near New Mexico. And just when her vacation ended, she got transferred to Albuquerque. They moved but never visited me in Desert Valley, but I don't blame them. Julia was very busy with work and from what I heard, Gabriella starred in a winter musical?" Lynda asked, now beaming.

Both Sharpay and Ryan couldn't help but look at each other and grin. They remembered how important it was for them to be the lead roles in every school musical or play, but they'd changed after that little incident. Sharpay never really liked Gabriella, but in her heart she knew the sweet girl deserved some credit. As for Ryan, he'd just stuck to his sister's evil plans until they both learned their lesson—that sometimes they had to share the spotlight.

Lynda continued with her story. "Well a few months passed until one dark September night I'd been working on my latest sculpture when the phone rang, and I got a call from St. Joseph's Medical Hospital that my dear niece Gabriella had been in an accident, and she's…in a coma." Pause. Sigh. "The first thing I wanted to do that night when I found out was be there for her, visit her. Especially my poor sister Julia. But I couldn't…I didn't want to go back to that old life, when I was happy here. And I was scared. Until—the next day I overheard some policemen at the Java Bar talking something about a huge fire accident in Albuquerque, and that these two kids needed temporary housing, since their parents were away and they were staying at a friend's house. The first thing that came to mind that afternoon was Gabriella. Just as I'd abandoned her…I don't know. I felt bad so I wanted to help by taking you in. I called the police and asked if I could help, and they agreed to take my offer. First they told me the full story, and I immediately realized who Troy was. I knew that Gabriella just _had_ to be connected to the accident, somehow, and that Troy didn't cause the fire. This made me want to help even more, and what do you know? A week later you two arrived here at my house, and things had been different ever since." Lynda gave her guests a small smile and finished the rest of her coffee.

Sharpay was touched by the story. "So you wanted to help us; you weren't being forced?" she asked.

"Forced? Of course not!" Lynda laughed heartily. "I guess I just missed…I missed being surrounded by people you love and care about. You two are like my own children."

Aw. Ryan and Sharpay looked at each other and grinned. They'd never been told this by _anyone_ before, not even their own parents, who were so wrapped up in their belongings rather than their own children. Sharpay and Ryan felt a sense of warmth and belonging with Lynda.

"Speaking of children," Ryan asked, trying to get his mind off his parents, "do you want one?"

Now this was a difficult question, going way past "personal" level for Lynda. But she smiled and replied anyway, "Of course, someday. The closest thing I have to a child of my own was Gabriella, back in the old days. And now, well…you both."

Smiling like happy kids, Ryan and Sharpay were about to answer when the phone rang. Lynda immediately got up and strode over to the kitchen to answer it. "Hello?" she said softly into the receiver.

"Yes, is this Lynda Montez?" said a loud male's voice on the other line. Sharpay and Ryan exchanged worried glances. They could hear the man's booming voice even from where they sat.

"Yes. Lynda speaking. Can I uh, help you with anything?" Lynda asked in a meek voice.

There were some noises coming from the other line of the phone; Lynda shifted it from one ear to the other, waiting. Finally the male's voice spoke. "This is Robert Jenkins from the government. We're just calling to check in. How has it been with the Evans'?" he asked in a calm voice.

Lynda said casually, "Everything's been great, Mr. Jenkins. They're wonderful kids and—"

Mr. Jenkins interrupted her, coughing slightly. "Good, good. Look, Miss Lynda, we have some rather startling news for Ryan and Sharpay. We know it's a bit soon but…tell them their parents are back and we'll be coming first thing tomorrow morning to pick them up. Thank you." He hung up before Lynda could say anything. She just stared at the phone with a shocked expression.

Ryan and Sharpay looked at each other worriedly, and knew it was officially over. They had given up just about everything in their lives: their house, friends, dreams of scholarships at the Academy of the Performing Arts. But now this was just crossing the line. They had to give up the most wonderful person they'd ever known.

---

Karyanne Neilson stepped out into the cool nighttime air, feeling the refreshing breeze dancing lightly across her face. It felt so good to be outside, after hours of being locked up in Dr. Fonda's office. She still couldn't believe her family was sending her over there, every single afternoon. What good would it do to her? She still wouldn't be the same person they'd once known, even after therapy.

She sighed and lay back into the cool grass. She was outside in her front yard at one in the morning, for obvious reasons. Karyanne needed to think. She couldn't sleep, not with visions of perfect wedding plans dancing in her head. But it wasn't fair. What if they couldn't pull off the wedding? She'd been dreaming about it her whole life. She _had_ to have this wedding. She didn't care what her family said.

_Yeah,_ she thought, stretching out amongst the grass. _It's not their wedding. It's mine. _

Suddenly her head snapped back as she heard the sound of the front door opening. She looked backward to see her younger sister, Kelsi, in a light blue tank top and gray sweatpants, her hair up in a bun. This time Kelsi wasn't wearing glasses, and Karyanne noticed how pretty her sister looked without them.

"Hey," Kelsi said, walking over across the lawn and sitting down beside where Karyanne lay. She scratched her head awkwardly. "Mind if I join you?"

This wasn't really a good time, Karyanne silently whispered into her mind. But she let Kelsi anyway. "Here to make sure I'm not secretly smoking marijuana, or taking pot? Or did you want to see if I was inhaling magic markers," Karyanne snapped out loud, startling her sister.

Kelsi sighed and looked away, feeling a rush of shame. She knew how angry Karyanne must feel, being locked up in a therapy center every afternoon. It wasn't a really enjoyable experience, after all. But it's her price to pay.

Finally she managed to choke out, "Look, Kar. I know you're mad about the whole 'telling our parents' thing, but what choice did I have? You could get really sick if you starve yourself like that, Karyanne." That felt weird, calling her sister by her full name. It was like calling your grandma by her actually name, instead of just "grandma."

Karyanne didn't say anything. She tilted her head and looked away from her sister and up, up at the glowing stars above them. She immediately wished life could be like this, that you could just turn away from the world and the rest of your problems and leave them behind. But the past always caught up to you, she figured, tracing the patters of a cluster of stars with her finger.

"Please talk to me, Kar." Kelsi was nervous now.

"Okay." Karyanne sat up and looked impatiently at her sister. God, how she loathed her right now. Kelsi was so _pretty_. Why hadn't anyone noticed that before? She must have a zillion guys chasing after her. Karyanne knew she shouldn't be feeling jealousy and hatred toward her younger sister, but she couldn't help but feel a little green with envy at the moment. "Let's talk. What do you want to talk about, Kelsi? My eating problem? Or the fact that everyone's starting to hate me, including Steve?"

Pause. Kelsi looked at her sister, confused, and blinked twice. "Nobody hates you, Kar. Especially not Steve," she said softly.

Was Kelsi always this positive?

"Well you are so wrong about that," Karyanne snapped angrily.

"No, I'm not."

Alright, that was it. Kelsi was starting to get on her sister's nerves now, with all her straight-A smartness and goody-two-shoes-ness. "Will you just go away?" Karyanne spat out.

Kelsi sighed and gave up. She leaned her head back and lay down on the soft, dried grass, feeling the wind playing with her hair. She didn't know what to say to her sister, just that she cared about her very much. But what would Karyanne say to that? _I'd be mad too,_ she thought, feeling guilty, _if my sister ratted on me. _But then again, Kelsi had always been the good girl, the daughter who got the straight-A's and the standing ovations. Karyanne was the popular party-girl who would end up with a decent husband and a nice house. They were two different worlds.

Finally Karyanne, who was feeling sort of blameworthy, said hastily, "Do you think Steve would still want to marry me even if I'm some lowlife anorexic girl who has to have therapy? Do you think so?"

At first Kelsi didn't know what to say. She knew the answer had to be yes, but was she so sure? "Yes, of course," she told her firmly. "Steve loves you just the way you are, Karyanne, anorexic or not. You're still his girl, right?"

"I hope so," Karyanne mouthed, looking down at the grass again. She wondered how her sister had become so much wiser than her. _God, _she thought in shame, _I'm such an idiot. I knew I should've turned to someone for my dress problem instead of just losing all my weight away just to fit in it. Then none of this would have even happened. _Karyanne was now angry with herself for not talking to someone first.

Finally she turned, wanting to change the subject. She didn't feel like talking about the wedding and Steve, even though she missed him so much. She felt as empty as the cold night air, but she didn't want to talk about it. Not right now. She realized in that moment that all this wasn't her family's fault: it was her own.

Karyanne faked a smile and turned to look at her sister. "Hey, Kels. You know, with me always planning things for the wedding and being with Steve, and you at school, we haven't really…taken time to get to know each other over the years, as sisters. It's my fault. I never called to see how you guys were doing; you were always the one who called me. I'm so sorry, Kels." She paused and took a deep breath before saying slowly, "So let's catch up. H-How have you been?"

Well _this_ was surprising. Kelsi was almost shocked—her sister wanted to spend time with her. That was a little out of the ordinary. But she decided to play at it anyway. "I've been…great," she said quietly, even though it wasn't really true.

The older sister smiled and lay back down on the dried grass next to the younger. "Oh yeah? Have you been getting good grades?" Karyanne laughed, already knowing the answer. Kelsi just grinned sheepishly, but didn't want to brag.

"Hmm…do you have a boyfriend, Kelsi?" Karyanne was teasing, poking her sister repeatedly in the stomach. Kelsi giggled because she was awfully ticklish, but when Karyanne stopped she didn't say anything. She just looked away, up at the nighttime sky. Karyanne bit her lip anxiously, waiting for an answer.

"I take that as a no."

Kelsi was still silent.

"Alright, fine. So do you _like_ anyone?" Karyanne asked, nudging her sister softly. "C'mon, Kels. You can open up to me. I'm your sister." She stopped for a moment, wondering where she had heard these words before. "And I…I know I haven't been real honest with you lately, either. It was stupid and wrong of me, and now I have to pay the price—therapy and a cheap wedding. Goddamn. But you know what, Kelsi? I learned my lesson. I want you to learn it too, but…not the hard way." She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart. She'd never felt so bad in her whole life.

There was another awkward moment of silence; Kelsi was taking these words in. She knew it was true. She'd been keeping her thoughts and feelings so bottled up inside that everything was just bound to come out anyway. She knew she wanted to talk to someone all these years, but whom? And the answer was right in front of her—her sister.

A small smile crept on Kelsi's face as she began to tell her heart out. "Okay," she said, trying to control her word speed. God, there was _so much_ to tell! "Guilty as charged. There's this one guy I like."

Karyanne grinned and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Troy Bolton," Kelsi admitted, feeling sort of defeated. Karyanne squealed with delight, telling her sister to go on with the story. "I played piano for him and Gabriella—that's his girlfriend—and pushed them through callbacks against the evil Ryan and Sharpay, and they won. The winter musical that Troy and Gabby starred in was a big hit. They played Arnold and Minnie, and were the best Arnold and Minnie in the history of…well, Twinkle Towne. And Troy's always so nice to me, complimenting me on my piano skills and whatnot. The truth is, I'd always had a little um, _crush_ on him since we both ended up in the same chemistry class in eighth grade. But he only thought of me as his lab partner, his friend, and nothing else."

"Aw, my poor Kelsi." Karyanne was smirking, but in a good way.

"Anyway," Kelsi continued, ignoring her sister's smirks, "we entered high school and still remained really good friends. We tried to keep in touch, but suddenly Troy was so busy with basketball that I barely had any time to get to talk to him. We kind of drifted apart until we met again at the tryouts for the winter musical. And we've been kind of close ever since." She bit her lip, wondering if that were really true.

Karyanne nodded, picking a cluster of grass and throwing it into the air. "That's true. I mean, weren't you the _first_ friend he called when Gabriella ended up in the hospital?" she asked.

Whoa. That was the first time Kelsi had realized that, but it was true. Troy hadn't called Chad or Zeke or Jason, or any of his other friends. He'd called _her_. "Y-Yeah," she whispered, nodding slowly.

"Aw. He might like you too, you know. Despite having a girlfriend."

"Yeah right," Kelsi retorted, swatting her sister's knee lightly. "Gabriella is Troy's life. She's like the only thing that helps him get through the day. Why do you think he's always at the hospital? Because he cares so much about her. He still does, I'm sure, and he always will." She scratched her head awkwardly. "But I don't like him _that much_ anymore. Not as much as eighth grade. I just…I guess I just care about him a lot. Maybe a little too much. But I guess that's what friends are for, right?"

Her older sister smiled. "Yep. And Kels, there's no such thing as caring for a person 'too much,' or 'too little.' There's no extent to how much a person can care. That's the great thing about life," she said, thinking of her fiancé Steve.

This Kelsi had to agree with. There were another few moments of silence and then she started talking again. "Kar, what if I never find the right one?" she asked timidly. This question had been bugging her for weeks. "I mean, Troy found his Gabriella. You found Steve. What if I never find the person who's right for me?"

A slow smile was on Karyanne's face, and Kelsi wondered for a minute why she was smiling. "You know Kels," Karyanne said lightly, playing with the grass beneath her, "I used to wonder the same thing. I always worried and wondered and waited, just like you. But you know what? After a while, despite all my other jerk-ass boyfriends who never really wanted _me_, I found the right one. Sure, it took a while, but once you find him you'll realize that it was worth the wait." She grinned. "Trust me. I know." Karyanne picked a small flower off the grass and started to play with it, a big smile still on her face.

Kelsi wondered what it was like to be in love. Would she be all light and dreamy, just like her sister? She'd never been in love, much less even had a boyfriend. She wondered what it was like.

Before she could ask, Karyanne was talking again. She turned and looked at Kelsi, right in the eyes. "Okay, a little worldly advice from the older sister. I want you to remember this. Remember that you don't have to have a lot of boyfriends to find the right guy. Remember that when you find the right one, you'll know because…well, you can feel it. Your heart won't stop racing and all you can think about is him. Remember that life's meant to hurt, but you have to stay strong and you'll pull through. I promise. Remember that the world isn't a major beauty contest; so forget about how you look. Well, okay, don't completely _forget_ it, but don't spend three hours in the bathroom every morning trying to make yourself look like a diva either. I mean, god, who cares? Ignore what other people say about you. They're idiots and they have nothing better to do in their stupid, messed-up lives. Remember that no matter what others may think, Kels, you're beautiful both on the inside and out. Be crazy and wild sometimes; the world needs a good laugh every once in a while. Bring joy unto other's lives like you do to mine. Don't always think negative about yourself either, because you're a good person. And I want you to always, _always_ remember this, Kelsi, that through thick and thin I will always love you, even if I say I don't. And that I don't blame you or Mom or Dad for the whole therapy thing; it's my own fault anyway."

Wow. That was the most useful advice anyone can ever give to their younger siblings. Kelsi was impressed, surprised, and touched by this. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Karyanne, taking in all the warmth and comfort with her. "I love you too, Kar," she whispered.

They hugged and hugged until Karyanne finally pulled apart and looked at Kelsi with this wild gleam in her eyes. "And you know, about the whole 'Right Guy' thing? Who knows, Kels, he might be just around the corner for you. He might even go to your school, for all we know." She grinned.

Ha. Kelsi had to agree. Karyanne could be right. Who knew?

**author's note:** wellll there you have it ! I thought this chapter was one of the nicest, most heartfelt, sincere. hope you enjoyed ! I do appreciate reviews.


	14. changes for everyone

**author's note:** hi everyone ! it's me (allyson) again. and if you don't remember who i am, well .. i don't exactly blame you. i know i haven't been updating in a very long time. but believe me, this isn't something i enjoy! i have been awfully busy with schoolwork. I live in the United States, and I just started high school. Yeah, not exactly pretty. but anyway. I am extremely sorry for the delay! and i can't guarantee frequent daily (or even weekly) updates, but believe me when i say i am not finished with this story yet. so keep reading and reviewing ! it makes me happy to see people are enjoying the story. xD

anyway, enjoy the chapter ! it's a rather shocking one, i give it that. 

**  
Chapter Fourteen – Changes for Everyone**

Eyes focused, Sharpay scanned the crowd behind her for any signs of familiar faces. None. She looked up helplessly at Mr. Jenkins, the tall man wearing a sharp tuxedo that was standing behind her. He coughed slightly. "They'll be here soon, Miss Evans. They're talking with their contractors."

As on cue, the mahogany-colored door swung open and out came two more government agency men, followed by Ryan and Sharpay's parents. They both looked tired and worn-out, especially Mrs. Evans.

Ryan and Sharpay did not run over to them. In fact, they hardly _knew_ these people. Their father looked like he'd been in a fight, and their mother seemed ready to collapse. Her face was ghostly white. Sharpay just stared at her, frightened a bit by her appearance.

"Well. If it isn't the two troublemakers," growled Mr. George Evans, glaring at his two children before him. His voice had a slight meaner edge to it. _Yep, _Sharpay thought timidly, gazing upon his haunted face, _he's changed since we last saw him. _

Mrs. Evans, however, did not say anything. She was turning whiter and whiter. Mr. Jenkins tapped her on the shoulder lightly, asking in a concerned voice, "Emily? Mrs. Evans? Are you alright?"

She answered by fainting on the floor. Sharpay screamed.

---

"How is she?" Ryan asked, biting his lip hard as he waited patiently in the room with all the others.

Mr. Jenkins sighed. He was extremely tired from all this government business, and now something like _this_ had to happen. "I—don't know yet. They won't let any of us see her, so she must be in critical condition. She's being operated on at the moment."

Ryan glanced at his younger sister, a worried expression on his face. She just stared blankly at the floor, her eyes wide and hollow looking. He knew she was scared for their mother. He took a deep breath and waited for what seemed like hours.

Finally the doctor, a timid man with a huge nose and little feet, appeared from the doorway. He had a grave look on his face, like something terrible had happened. Ryan once again braced himself for the words he was dreading to hear. All the others—Sharpay, Mr. Jenkins, and the people from the government—looked expectantly up at the doctor, praying for a miracle.

But the doctor shuffled his feet awkwardly before finally glancing up at everyone. Ryan closed his eyes, bracing himself. "The operation was…unsuccessful. Mrs. Evans had a severe heart attack." The doctor paused briefly, letting everyone take this news in. "There was…nothing we could do. I-I'm sorry."

He gave them a slow nod and then walked away, his feet echoing in the long, empty hallway. No one spoke. Mr. Jenkins was biting his lip awfully hard that it looked ready to bleed. The truth was, even though he knew it wasn't part of his job description, he was starting to really care about what was happening here. He'd never had to deal with death during any of his assignments. Now he just wanted to do all he can to comfort the Evans family. He'd never felt more sorry in his life. Especially for the kids.

Sharpay's head was in her lap. She was already bawling her eyes out, the tears first coming slow and then pouring down like rain, trickling down her face. She could not believe this was actually happening. Ryan, however, had his head down, staring at the hard tile floor. No tears were falling from his eyes—at least, not yet, he knew. But he refused to cry. He would not believe what the doctor had just told them. Ryan, like his sister, could not believe what was happening to them.

Mr. Jenkins coughed briefly—his heart was going out to them in this moment of grieving—and mumbled, "I know this isn't exactly the right moment but…we have a few arrangements to make…"

Like robots, the two siblings stood up and followed him out the door. Sharpay scuttled into her brother's arms and rested there, sobbing onto his shoulder. He patted her gently on the back and at that moment his heart burst. He wanted to let the tears go, but he refused to open the floodgates. He would wait.

They sat quietly in the big black stretch government car and waited. Finally the door opened and Mr. Jenkins came in. He sat down beside them and paused for a few minutes before finally speaking. This would be the hardest part of his career—breaking even more bad news to people who were already about to break themselves. His heart went out to these two sad teenagers, and he wished he could do something more to help them both…but what?

"I um, I know everything has been incredibly difficult for you two," he finally said awkwardly, clearing his throat. "What with the house being destroyed, along with all your belongings, and then being sent off to a foreign city with a complete stranger…and then finding out the terrible news. I hate to do this to you two, but we are left with no other choice. I understand that your father has changed a lot over the period of time—"

"Are we going to live with him?" Sharpay croaked, finally able to speak through her tears.

Mr. Jenkins held his breath. He didn't know what to say. "I—well, yes," he said awkwardly. "He is, after all, still your parent."

Ryan was angry. First his house burns, then his mom dies, and now _this_? There was no way. "Dad might be related to us, but if you haven't noticed, he's got a serious problem and I don't know what it is, but I'm not willing to find out. You can't make us live with that man," he growled.

"I don't…we have no choice, Mr. Evans. You _are_ his children. He already has a small house at the edge of town and is waiting for you two right now—"

"But you can't make us actually _live_ with him!" Ryan cried, furious.

"—and we're going to take you there," finished Mr. Jenkins, not blinking an eye. He was dead serious about this, even when he didn't want to be.

Defeated, Ryan and Sharpay looked at each other and sighed. They knew they had no other choice.

---

The weekend had been a long one, but once it finally passed Troy Bolton was in no mood to go back to school. He had a mission, but he didn't know if he was up for it. He'd spent Saturday and Sunday thinking about what he was going to do, and how he was going to do it. It was a dangerous, brave, daring plan, but it was the only plan Troy had.

He took several deep breaths, calming himself before he stepped out of his car—he usually drove to school, since his dad had to get there an hour earlier before him—and into the bright, buzzing campus of East High School. The minute he was out, all eyes were staring at him. _They all know about Gabriella,_ Troy realized, blushing and swinging his backpack around his shoulder. _They all feel sorry for me. _

Out of the corner of his eye, Troy saw Chad looking at him too, but when he glanced back Chad turned away, hurt in his eyes. Troy wondered if he was mad at him for not telling about Gabriella. Sigh. He knew he'd have to fix this, and it was either now or never.

Ignoring the whispers all around him, Troy pushed his way through the chattering groups of students—it was all about cliques in high school—and found Chad by the water fountain, headphones in his ears. He snuck up from behind them and gently pulled them out. Chad looked annoyed and ready to start firing at him, when he saw that it was Troy and not some random kid.

"Oh," he said, grumbling. "It's you."

Troy sighed and put a hand on Chad's shoulder. "Look, dude. I know you're pissed at me for not telling you about…you know. But it's not like I didn't _want_ to. It's just—I don't know, I couldn't trust anyone for a while. I was insecure," he admitted.

"Oh yeah, so you can trust _Kelsi Neilson_, a.k.a. the School Loner, more than you trust me?"

"I…" Troy glanced up, confused. He had to admit though; Kelsi the "loner" could be a lot more trustable than Chad the Great. "Jeez, Chad, what kind of guy do you take me for? Kelsi might not have a lot of friends, but she's still _my_ friend. And she's nice, and plays really good piano, and—"

But Chad put up a hand, interrupting him again. "Yeah, Bolton, we get it," he snapped. "You're Gabriella Montez's boyfriend. You have to be all nicey-nice to everyone. You're Mr. Perfect, every girl's dream boy. _Of course_ you have to tell Kelsi first; after all, she's your best friend now, right?" Chad knew he was going a little over the top with his sarcasm, but he enjoyed it anyway.

The look on Troy's face was surprise. "I…what, no! Kelsi isn't my best friend. She's just a really _close_ friend. It's just…okay; it's because of Taylor. You were pulling away from her, not being dependable and committed and trustable. She was hurt, and you didn't care. So what if I told you about Gabi first, and you didn't care either?"

Now Chad was pretty angry. He couldn't believe Troy was bringing _Taylor_ into this conversation. Taylor McKessie, the girl he'd spent all his weekend thinking about. He wanted her back. But what did that have to do with all this? Oh, he was angry. "That's all bull!" he yelled in Troy's face, startling him. "That's all a bunch of crap! You don't have any idea what's happened to Taylor and me! I do care about her, for your information, so much. Probably more than you care about Gabriella."

The words "probably more than you care about Gabriella" stabbed Troy like needles in his heart. He knew it was true, that it could really be true, and he felt guilty. Did everyone know about Anna Cole and him? Was someone watching when they kissed?

"You don't know that," Troy muttered, looking down shamefaced.

"Well whatever," Chad said, ignoring the comment. "If you didn't know, Mr. Hot Shot Basketball Guy, I broke up with Taylor when I still freaking love her. I made the biggest mistake in my life. I lost the one person I love. And if you think _you're_ hurting, how do you think I feel!"

Troy finally looked up at his best friend, and his heart instantly went out to the poor guy. Chad's face was buried in his arms, but no tears were falling out. Chad was a strong guy. Yet he still didn't know about Taylor's being pregnant. He did have a right to know. When was Taylor going to even tell him?

"Hey, Chad. Hey." Biting his lip, Troy put an arm around his best friend. "I know you two broke up. Taylor told me. And I'm really sorry I didn't tell you earlier…I was waiting until the right time. But I guess there _is_ no right time. And you know, you really should've come to me for advice, man. I'm here for you, buddy, remember?" He smiled sheepishly.

Chad laughed for the first time in days. "Yeah? So what, now you're Dr. Phil or something? Maybe you should write a book on how to be the perfect boyfriend," he said. "It would be a bestseller."

"Nah." Troy laughed along with him, suddenly feeling as great as he felt before, first with Gabriella and then with Anna. "I don't think there is such thing as being the perfect boyfriend or girlfriend. I mean, there's no such thing as being perfect, 'cause nobody is. You just have to like, be yourself."

The two best friends, glad to finally be talking again after a while, laughed and joked around for the rest of the morning. Troy gave Chad more "boyfriend advice" but he never said anything about Taylor being pregnant, no matter how much he wanted to. Finally the bell for homeroom rang and the boys went into Ms. Darbus's classroom, laughing and talking about the lunch menu for today. The subject of Gabriella was out of their minds—at least, until they sat down in their desks for homeroom.

A minute after they entered, Taylor McKessie sauntered in, seeming a bit happy. She avoided eye contact with Troy but looked at him expectantly. Chad saw this but he didn't say anything, just kept pretending to smile at everyone and talk to Troy. Jason, who was sitting quietly in the back row, saw them talking and grinned in spite of himself. _At least their friends again,_ he thought happily.

Everyone was still staring at Troy and whispering until Ms. Darbus entered the room, her eyes looking grayer than usual, her face pale white. In an instant everybody knew something was wrong. Troy glanced around the classroom and noticed more than one empty desk…not only Gabriella's, but also Ryan and Sharpay's. Where were those two anyway?

"I…students, I have a few startling announcements to make," Ms. Darbus was saying in a choked-up voice. "Well, _one_ startling announcement. You may have noticed that our two star pupils Ryan and Sharpay are not present with us today—"

"Yeah, the room's a lot quieter!" joked a guy named Brandon in the third row. Several kids laughed.

Ms. Darbus narrowed her eyes at him. "You will not leave homeroom until 10 minutes after the bell, Mr. Delaney," she snapped. "And how about joining us after school for detention?"

Brandon Delaney shut his mouth and was quiet for the rest of the homeroom period.

"Anyway," Darbus continued, ignoring the snickers she kept hearing around the room, "the two siblings are gone because they have been moved to a location among the outskirts of town. I have heard from a reliable source that their mother died and they are currently living with their father, but they will not be back for a few days until everything—and everyone—is settled."

The class was shocked. Mrs. Evans _died?_ Oh God, how sad. Poor Ryan and Sharpay.

Troy was wondering if the same thing would happen to Gabriella. _Oh God, please, no,_ he pleaded in his mind. But he knew it could happen. That was the _last_ thing he wanted to think about right now.

Chad noticed the weird look on his face. He tapped him twice on the shoulder. "Dude, you okay?"

"…What? Oh yeah, man, I'm fine," Troy replied, coming back into reality.

People all over the room were gossiping loudly about Ryan and Sharpay, probably planning to start up more juicy-but-hurtful rumors about them. Troy wished he could be somewhere else right now, preferably with Anna. She could make him forget about death any day.

The bell signaling the end of homeroom rang and everyone rose out of their seats, swinging their backpacks over their shoulders and still whispering about Ryan and Sharpay. Troy felt sick as he wandered aimlessly to his first period, American History. Chad followed him in silence.

Finally he stepped in front of Troy, looking stern. "Dude. You seem distant. Everything okay?"

Troy didn't have a chance to answer because he noticed Taylor watching him avidly from the corner and giving him the I-need-to-talk-to-you-now look. "Um, it's all good, man. Gotta go bye!" He whizzed off toward Taylor before Chad could open his mouth.

"Taylor," Troy panted, coming toward her through the buzzing crowd. "What's up?"

Taylor just rolled her eyes at him. "_This_ is what's up," she said sarcastically, gesturing toward her stomach. Troy noticed the major noticeable changes. "I'm starting to show!"

He sighed and patted his friend on the shoulder. She just pouted. "You ought to tell him, Taylor," Troy finally said in a grave voice.

"Oh yes, Troy, ya think? But how am I supposed to do that!"

"Just go up to him, tell him, and it's done. No arguments, no complaints. Done. Final."

Taylor sighed and crossed her arms. She really didn't want to be the one to do this. "You know it's not as easy as you make it seem, Bolton. Chad is a lot more complicated than that. He'll go ballistic. He won't believe it. He'll buy me a thousand pregnancy tests even though they are all positive." She bit her lip in anguish.

"He's not that bad. I went up to him and explained the whole Gabriella situation this morning, and now we're acting like nothing ever happened," Troy replied easily. "C'mon, Tay. He's going to find out _sometime._"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Or not," she said viciously, "because you're not going to tell him. Or anyone, for that matter. Right Troy?" She gave him another cross-but-serious look. He gulped and nodded, wishing that she would just follow his advice._ Why are girls so difficult?_ he thought wearily. _Why don't they just follow their instincts and do what they know is right? _

Taylor smiled vaguely, satisfied with his answer. "Good. See you at lunch, then." She sauntered off toward her next class, trying to cover her growing stomach with her jacket. The attempt wasn't working.

Sighing, Troy began to make his way through the crowded hall—avoiding the looks, glares, and Gabriella-related gossip going on around him—until he bumped into a group of chattering girls with blonde hair, perfect skin and teeth. The tallest one turned around and gave him a flirtatious smile. It was Julianne Crew.

"Hi Troy," she said loudly, creeping closer to him. "What an odd coincidence that we run into each other. Me and the girls were just talking about you." She casually gestured toward the chattering blonde group behind her, looking all preppy in their Abercrombie and Fitch matching sweaters. They giggled.

"Oh uh, hi Julianne," Troy mumbled, trying to squeeze his way out.

"You can call me Julie," she replied, pulling him back and putting her hands on his shoulders. He looked extremely uncomfortable surrounded by the group. "So are you going to Blake's party this week, Troy? It's on Friday."

The truth was, Troy had forgotten all about Blake Wagner—the popular football quarterback of East High—and his PPO "Popular People Only" party. He'd been busy visiting Gabriella at the hospital, studying, basketball, or thinking about Anna Cole to even care. He wasn't even sure if he should go. Not with Julianne and her posse mobbing him.

He cocked his head to the side and said casually, "I'm not sure if I can fit it on my To-Do list."

Julianne smiled, and Troy noticed how pretty she was—blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect teeth. But she was so rotten on the inside. "But you'll try, right Troy? Pleeeease? For me?" she asked, eyes sparkling.

_Where have I heard that before?_ Troy thought, remembering those words. Oh yeah. It was about a year ago, when Sharpay Evans had asked him to watch her in the winter musical "Twinkle Towne." She'd used the same pleading tone as Julianne.

Troy smiled to himself, remembering this. He nodded slowly. "Sure. I'll try." He didn't know if he meant it.

"Thanks, Troy!" Julianne clapped her hands happily. "You _are_ the best." Suddenly she leaned in, much to Troy's surprise, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Troy just stared at her, completely shocked. What if Blake saw this! He would be dead, so dead.

Julianne's posse was giggling loudly and smacking their big lipstick-smeared lips in his face. He backed away, ready to leave, just as Julianne was waving at him and blowing him playful kisses. Troy felt sick; silently gagging in his mouth.

"Oh, and don't bring any lighters this time, Troy!" Julianne squealed as Troy ran off. He was about midway through the hallway—which was emptying fast—when these words hit him hard, like a baseball bat to his face. _Wait. How does Julianne know about the lighter?_

He turned around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her oh-so-blonde hair, but she was gone.

---

"Zeke Jones."

Hearing his name, Zeke spun around to see Jamie Lynn, the blonde Wildcats cheerleader, coming his way, followed by a group of excited girls in matching uniforms. He managed a weak smile. Jamie was a little crazy, and perhaps too spirited, but she was still his friend.

She stretched out her arms—revealing her EHS cheerleading top—and gave Zeke a big friendly hug. "How ya been? Look, I know you really liked her and all. I'm really sorry," she said, patting Zeke on the head.

Zeke was downright confused. "Huh? What're you talking about?"

Jamie rolled her eyes and all her cheerleader friends laughed. "You mean you haven't heard? About Ryan and Sharpay." She was looking at him like he was an animal in a zoo exhibit.

"Um. I know they're not here today, but what does that have to do with—"

"Their mom died," said Jamie suddenly, putting her hand over her forehead dramatically. "Isn't it tragic? It was a heart attack; right after the parents came back from their extended vacation or whatever. So they're living with their father now, around the edge of town. I still can't believe you didn't hear! It's all over the school by now."

Shocked, Zeke didn't know what to say. Well what was he _supposed _to say? The love of his life—who actually, finally loved him back—was experiencing death in the family. He wanted to be there for her. He had to be…but how? _Sharpay is far far away,_ he thought sadly, leaning to rest against a row of lockers. _Who knows when she'll be back? She might never. _

"We know you like Sharpay," Jamie was saying as Zeke snapped back to reality. "Well I mean, who doesn't? Anyway, we're really sorry, Zeke." She gave him another hug and some of her friends patted him appreciatively on the back before turning to leave, whispering loudly down the hall.

Zeke sighed and knew he should get going to class. Not that he was really looking forward to an hour of chemistry.

There was a basketball practice that evening, and when Zeke arrived, already dressed in uniform, he wasn't surprised to see the whole team packed tightly together in one group, no doubt gossiping about the sudden death in the Evans' family. When Zeke walked in, they all looked at him and started to whisper some more. Zeke decided to ignore this—the whole school had stared at and gossiped about him that day, so he was getting quite used to it.

At that moment Coach Bolton walked in, a weary look on his face. The team broke apart from their circle and pretended to be tying their shoes or looking up at the ceiling.

"Don't even try, guys. I know what everyone's been talking about," the tired coach immediately said. "Even the teachers are doing it, chatting about poor Ryan and Sharpay Evans. I don't know how many times I've heard those names all day."

Everyone looked guilty for a moment and then Coach told them to do laps, so their faces filled with relief. Zeke was about to take off after the rest of them when the coach called, "Except you, Zeke. I wanna talk with you." He motioned for him to come forward.

Zeke shyly stepped up. "Um, yessir, what's up?" he asked, hoping the answer wouldn't be related to Ryan and Sharpay.

But to his astonishment, Coach Bolton replied, "Have you been working on your free throws, Jones? While Troy isn't here right now, you're our secret weapon. You've got the best free throw shots in the whole team. Think you're up for the challenge? We got a big game against the Coyotes on Sunday." He smiled hazily.

"I—wow, sure! I think I can do it." Zeke was impressed with this offer. "Troy's not gonna be there for the game?"

The smile on Coach's face slipped off as easily as it had appeared earlier. "Ah…no, he will not," he said shortly. "And—neither will I."

What was going on here? How could Coach Bolton _not_ be there for their big game? Zeke raised his eyebrows in confusion. And then it clicked.

"Gabriella business?" he asked grimly.

"Yeah." Jack Bolton wiped some sweat from his forehead. Boy, was it getting warm in here. Maybe they needed to fix the air-conditioning. "Actually…" He felt as though he could trust Zeke with this secret. He leaned down and whispered slowly, "She's awake."

"_What?_" Zeke yelled shrilly, completely shocked. The whole team, still doing their laps around the court, turned to look at him, wondering what in the world was going on. Coach Bolton told them to finish up their laps and then start drills.

Zeke, who was now shining with sweat and huffing, tried to calm himself down. He lowered his voice. "Did you say Gabriella's _awake_?" he asked slowly.

The tired coach frowned. "I…well, she's waking up. At least that's what the doctor told me earlier this morning. I got a phone call from St. Joseph's during school, maybe around second period. The doctor told me Gabriella's showing signs of actually waking up from her coma, but don't get your hopes up too high. It's a slim chance. They weren't expecting it this soon." He scratched his head and sighed.

"They're going to wait a week to see if she actually _does_ awaken, and then Troy comes on Sunday morning to check up. I…I want to be there for him, so I'm going too." Jack bit his lip, knowing he made the right decision but still feeling unsure about it. He turned abruptly to Zeke and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I know I haven't really trusted you before. But Chad…keep this on the down low, but he's not been himself lately. Is he taking drugs or something? He looks skinnier. Anyway, that's why I'm putting _you_ in charge for the week, at least until I come back. Think you can do it, Jones?"

Zeke grinned in spite of himself…his first smile that whole day. "Yeah, why not, Coach?"

Jack laughed. "Okay, now go join the rest of the team for warm ups. You're in charge."

"Alright." Zeke was about to take off, when he called out, "And um, Coach Bolton?"

Jack turned to look at him. "Yeah?" he asked.

Fumbling with the hem of his shorts, Zeke bit his lip and forced himself to blurt out unexpectedly, "Did you tell Troy yet? You know, about Gabriella?"

There was a momentary pause and Jack sadly shook his head. "No Zeke, I didn't," he admitted quietly. "But I will. Tonight." Zeke, understanding, nodded and took off down the court to join the rest of the team. He was still amazed that _he_ would be the one in charge of them for a few days. He would get to be playmaker, for once in his life.

Feeling important, Zeke yelled out, "Okay guys! Um…pair up!"

Everyone turned to look at him. A few guys started laughing. Chad Danforth, who was standing sullenly in the corner, jumped up and sneered, "What, Jones, you our coach now?"

Zeke actually nodded. "Yes, Chad, I'm in charge. At least, for a little bit," he said, not flinching.

_Coach Bolton was right, _he realized as Chad was stepping forward up to him, trying to look all important-like. _Chad is different. Did something happen? Maybe I should go talk to him. _He cast a sideways look at Jason, who stood stiffly beside one of the players named Allan. Jason just shrugged at him.

"Okay, Jones." Chad was up in Zeke's face now, his big bushy hair covering one of his eyes. "You're our coach. Show us some moves." He grinned and some guys laughed.

Zeke pushed him away. "Dude. What's up with you? Are you on crack or something?"

But Chad shoved him even harder. "No man, what's up with _you_? You think you're all important now, huh, just 'cause you're the guy everyone's talking about. You're little miss Sharpay's boyfriend now, right? You think you're so tough." He was mocking him.

"Well just because Coach Bolton put you in charge doesn't mean it's your turn to rule the school, Jones," Chad continued, snarling. "Troy's still playmaker here. And I'm still—"

"Hey, if you worship Troy so much, always up in his case, why don't you just talk to him!" Zeke shouted, now angry.

For this Chad shoved him harder. "What the hell! For your information, Zeke, I _am_ talking to him. And I never worship the guy, he's just my best friend," he snapped, annoyed.

"Yeah?" Zeke challenged, his face reddening. "And what about Taylor? Whatever happened to—"

He was about to finish when Jason stepped in between them, holding his hands out.

Jason, feeling somewhat superior, called out, "Hey, hey! Can we just stop fighting now? I'm here for basketball practice, not some kind of drama fight scene!" The rest of the team agreed, nodding their heads and looking annoyed.

But Chad wasn't willing to give up. "NO!" he roared, trying lunge at Zeke but couldn't because he was being held back by two other guys. "I want to hear what he was going to say about Taylor!"

Zeke was silent, looking down at the gym floor and not cooperating.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Alright, either I practice some basketball here, or we all leave," he said quietly, his voice echoing in the gym. "Go solve your issues some other time." Everyone nodded, agreeing. There were shouts and protests of "yeah" and "we don't need no soap opera" going around.

Chad and Zeke felt a little bit embarrassed by their actions, but pushed away nevertheless. "Fine," said Chad, pretending to brush some invisible dirt off his shoulder. "I don't need to be hearing this shit anyway." He stalked off, coughing and muttering.

Still silent, Zeke watched after him, feeling guilty. The person who had just pushed and shouted at his old longtime friend was not the Zeke he'd once known. Could it be possible that he was changing, too?

"Alright um." He turned resentfully to face the team, looking expectantly up at him, waiting to do something. "Let's just start with drills."

**author's note:** well there you go! I hope you liked it. personally, i think Chad is becoming an ass .. but i'm sure glad he made up with Troy, sort of.

please feel free to express your opinions on the way the story is turning out .. it really helps as well. Oh, and don't forget to _read & review_! thanksss!


	15. the real truth

**author's note:** heyyyyyyyy guys! i know, long time no _update. _well, i can't really help it. we all get busy somehow. anyway, what else can i say? enjoy the chapter. it's a very, very surprising one .. and oddly enough, one of my favorites.  
enjoy! (:

**Chapter Fifteen – the real truth**

"Okay Troy, focus. It's not that difficult. Here, um…try balancing this equation. What element is Au? You know this one, Troy." Anna Cole scratched her messy dark hair, leaned over the paper, and scribbled something down on the corner. Troy, still confused, just looked at it blankly. His mind was obviously somewhere else, and not anywhere near chemistry.

The two were over at Anna's for no other reason but Troy's daily-basis tutoring. He'd already missed basketball practice for this, and was kind of mad, but at least it was an excuse to get away from his dad, who still didn't know about the tutoring. Coach Bolton thought his son was over at St. Joseph's, visiting Gabriella. But the truth was, Troy hadn't even dared to go to the hospital for over two days.

He couldn't even focus his mind. It kept wandering away in other places…mostly about Anna herself, his tutor. He watched her delicate, pale hands as they scribbled down solutions to problems. He wished he could hold them. But he always felt guilty…he shouldn't be thinking this, when he was supposed to be re-learning chemistry.

"There. I did half of it for you. Now can you balance the other half?" Anna said, glancing over at him. For a moment Troy felt his heart do a leap.

He picked up the pencil and tried his best. He was just doodling. None of this made sense. What did the little 2 at the bottom mean? Why is there another 2 in front? And what did "Au" mean? Helpless, he turned to his tutor for guidance. "I—don't get any of this," he admitted quietly, looking ashamed.

Anna sighed, untying the small knot she made in her jet-black hair. She pointed at the 2 in front of the equation. "This is called the coefficient; it also…"

And then Troy couldn't take it anymore. His thoughts were wandering off, far, far away from coefficients. All he could think about, dream about, wonder about was the girl right next to him, talking quietly to herself and brushing pieces of hair from her face. Anna Cole. He knew it was wrong, but for some reason, it felt _so right._

Finally he turned to her in the middle of her tutorial and blurted, "How can you just forget about it?"

Anna blinked twice, obviously confused. "Forget about…what?" she asked, her voice surprisingly soft. "I didn't forget about balancing equations--"

"No, Anna, it's not the equations." Troy sighed and looked down at the carpet, wishing he could just disappear. He had no idea what he was about to say next. "What we did the other night. On the porch. How could you just pretend it never happened? How could you just forget?"

There was an awkward moment of silence. Anna was taken aback by this question. Firstly, it didn't have anything to do with chemistry. And second, how could Troy possibly think that she forgot? She could _never_ forget. But the truth was, even though she thought the kiss she and Troy had shared two nights ago was downright _amazing, _and that she never ever wanted to forget about it, Anna knew that she had no other choice. She had to forget about what happened that night. It was the right thing to do.

She bit her lip, wondering how to say this. "Troy…" she started, fingering with her dark-colored hair. "Troy, you know I didn't forget about what happened that night. I don't even know if I can forget it; it was…well, amazing. And I do have to admit, Bolton, you are a great kisser." She managed a weak smile.

Troy tried his best to return the favor. "Yeah, you're not too bad yourself," he said faintly.

"But…" Anna sighed. She didn't know how to say this in the nicest possible way, not without breaking any hearts. Including her own. "It was just one night. One small kiss. Troy, you have to realize this. You have a _girlfriend_. And she loves you more than anything. And you do too, don't you?"

"I—well, yes!" Troy argued. He stood up from his chair and began pacing around the room. "But can't you see Anna, I don't feel the same anymore! It's just…whenever I look at you; I feel this rush of unexplainable, wonderful feelings. Feelings that I _used_ to feel with Gabriella, but ever since the accident—I don't know—I'm just so goddamn scared—"

"That's just it, Troy." The words coming out of Anna's mouth were unexpected, and they were breaking her heart. But she knew it was the right thing. "You're scared. You're scared that Gabriella might wake up, or might never wake up. You're scared of both. You're afraid that if she does awake, things won't be the same anymore, and you're scared that if she _doesn't_ awake, then you'll want to…"

Troy had no idea what he was doing, but in one moment he was pacing the room, frustrated, and in the next he was collapsing on the carpet, tears flooding his eyes. "I'm afraid I'll want to kill myself," he whispered, "because life without Gabriella Montez is like living without air. It's just…not possible. Gabriella _is_ my air." And those words hit him hard. It wasn't Anna he was in love with—it was truly, all along, his own Gabriella. It took him all that time to realize that, and once he finally did, he knew it had to be true.

And Anna had to smile. She sort of wished she had her own Troy Bolton, someone who would love her as much as Troy loved Gabriella. For now, she knew, she would have to wait until the right guy came.

Now Troy was coming toward her, scooping her into his big strong arms and giving her a friendly hug. "Thanks Ann," he said, grinning down at her. "Thanks for helping me realize that."

She smiled back up at him. God, Troy was tall! "It's no problem Bolton. So, friends?" she asked.

"No," replied Troy, laughing. "_Best_ friends." He gave her a big hug again and she melted, but in a friendly way. She was glad Troy had understood everything and finally wanted the _right_ person for him, the right girl, and not Anna. Even though a small part of her wanted him back for herself, she knew she could never have him. But for some reason, that was okay.

Suddenly Troy pulled apart from their friendship hug. "Oh shit, I have to see her!" he cried.

"Huh? Who?"

"Gabriella! So I can tell her I love her!" Troy yelled, running out of the room and waving. Anna watched from the window, a sad smile on her face, as he bolted out the door, racing to the hospital. _An act of undying love,_ she thought, truly touched so much by this that there were silent tears streaming down her face. _Typical "Notebook" story. So movie-esque. _She laughed lightly, wiping away her tears.

Troy was now across the street, racing past houses, when her heard Anna's bedroom window slam open. He turned around just in time to see the dark-haired, pretty girl hollering in her loudest voice, "Don't forget, Bolton! We have tutoring tomorrow!" He chuckled out loud. He was glad he and Anna were now at "friend" zone, and were going to stay there.

---

Chad sighed and leaned against the brick wall of the East High school gymnasium, taking a box of cigarettes and a lighter out of his pocket. He'd never smoked before, but since that fateful day the homeless-looking man at McDonald's gave him a bag of what turned out to be drugs, Chad was secretly addicted. He knew it was wrong, but for some reason, it helped relieve his stress.

Lighting one of the cigarettes and pushing it into his mouth, Chad began to think. He was angry at a lot of things, mostly people. Like Coach Bolton, for putting a dummy like _Zeke Jones_ in charge. (Well whatever, it wasn't like Zeke was that bad. Actually he was pretty good.) Or his parents, for trying to butt into his business by searching his room for any signs of marijuana or cigarette packs. (He'd hid them under his bed; mercifully they didn't check there.) He was mad at himself too, for neglecting Taylor McKessie, the girl of his dreams. And for getting addicted to drugs and smoking—since elementary school he'd been taught to "Say No To Drugs." He knew he was doing something very wrong, and he was doing it behind the school gym, which was even more wrong.

_God, _he thought, feeling depressed, _I'm turning into someone I don't even know. _

Just as he was thinking this, the door to the library building opened, and out of nowhere came the love of Chad's life—Taylor. She was carrying a stack of heavy-looking books, her face red and sweaty. She also looked like she'd been crying.

The moment Chad saw her, his heart began to race.

The moment Taylor saw Chad, she wanted to die.

But fate never separated the two.

As Taylor was making her way to the parking lot, where she'd left her car, she passed by Chad, sitting alone on the brick wall and smoking. (She had to pass Chad on the way to the parking lot; it was the only way to get there.) She knew she couldn't just walk right past him, so she gathered up all her courage and tried to force the words right out of her mouth. Instead, she squeaked and dropped all her books.

Chad snapped alert and began to help an embarrassed Taylor pick up her library books. He glanced at the title of one as he handed it to her: _Are You Pregnant and Scared?_ He raised an eyebrow.

"Pregnancy books?"

"What?!" Taylor looked mortified. She snatched the book away from his hands just before he could read the summary on the back. "I—they're for my mom. She's pregnant." Taylor hated to lie, especially to Chad, but what else could she say?

But Chad wasn't thoroughly convinced. "I thought your mom had surgery last year, so she can't have any more babies, am I correct?" he asked in his most polite voice.

_Shit,_ Taylor thought, feeling horrible. He was right, so right. _Why is it that Chad still knows so much about my life? How could he remember my mom's surgery? Did I even tell that to him; I don't remember…_

So she decided to change the subject. "Um. Since when did you smoke?"

Chad hastily threw the lit cigarette on the cemented ground and crushed it with his foot. Taylor watched him interestedly, gathering the last of her fallen books. He stuffed the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into his pocket. "I don't," he replied dully.

"Oh. Um, okay." Taylor was starting to hate this awkwardness. She wanted to say something. Suddenly Troy's words came to mind: _He's going to find out sometime. _She knew she ought to tell Chad about her being pregnant…god, where was Troy Bolton when you needed him?

Taylor gently set the books on the sidewalk and forced herself to speak. "Chad, there's…there's something I need to tell you," she said quickly, her voice really low.

Chad bit his lip and told her to go on, he was listening.

"Chad, I know you'll be angry when I say this," Taylor went on, her foot tapping lightly. "Angry that I didn't tell you before. You'll be just as mad as you were with Troy because he didn't tell you about Gabriella. But please, Chad, please try to understand." She bit her lip and looked down at the ground.

"The pregnancy books aren't for my mom." Taylor's mind, heart, and soul was racing, her insides were jumping. She wondered how she was going to say this. "They're for me."

When Chad looked at her, confusion and other feelings in his eyes, Taylor knew it was either now or never. It was the Big Finish. The moment of truth.

And so, taking a deep breath, she managed to choke out, "I'm pregnant." And then she ran for it.

---

_This totally bites, _thought Kelsi Neilson as Matilda, the plump dress-fitting woman, snipped off a few pieces of cloth from the pink dress Kelsi was wearing. Matilda had dark, deep brown eyes that looked menacingly at anyone who stared into them. It gave Kelsi the creeps.

"Ah, no, too much cloth on the hem," Matilda muttered, picking up her scissors and snipping again. She put her hands on her hips and squinted at Kelsi. "You are too much work for Matilda," she said in a tired voice. "You make Matilda tired as air."

Mrs. Neilson, who was watching from the corner, bit her lip regretfully. "Kelsi's just a little squirmy, Matilda. As you may have noticed, she's not so used to wearing dresses. Do keep trying, Matilda dear," she said. Kelsi glared at her mother, wishing she were anywhere but here.

"Well Miss Kelsi better get used to wearing a dress—especially one as fanciful as this—if she's going to participate in a wedding," Matilda snapped, bending down to adjust another piece of Kelsi's garb, "And then she won't have to make Matilda work so hard. Matilda spend hours and hours on this dress, and it better be perfect." She cut off some loose string and glared at her.

Kelsi bit her lip. "No, it's—it's fine," she said hastily. "It fits perfectly."

Her mom stood up, unsure of this. "You're sure, Kelsi?" she asked.

"Yeah. The dress is fine." Kelsi glanced at her reflection in the long mirror. She took in a deep breath…it was true. The dress was absolutely perfect. No, it was more than that.

Matilda and Mrs. Neilson must have agreed, because they were clapping with joy. "Matilda work hard on this dress," Matilda boasted, smiling proudly. "It turn out perfect on Miss Kelsi." She patted herself on the back and strolled happily out of the room, humming to herself.

"Yes, without a doubt," replied Kelsi's mother, squeezing her daughter's arm. "Your sister will love it, absolutely love it. Just wait until she sees…" She turned and walked out of the fitting room, following Matilda, probably to ask to use her phone or something.

Alone at last, Kelsi looked at herself in the mirror. The reflection stared back at her like a ghost. She noticed the many changes in herself…the pretty girl wearing the long red dress, her face pale; strained, fake smile on her face. Over the years she had changed, maturing fast, but she knew she would always be the shy quiet girl she was. The girl nobody ever noticed, or cared about. She wondered if she was just as fake as a Barbie doll. _If I am, then I might as well be a really ugly Barbie doll,_ she thought grimly to herself, twisting and twirling in the long bride's maid's gown. _I hate how I'm not beautiful. _

She wondered vaguely if Troy Bolton would think of her as beautiful. She knew she could never, ever have a chance with him. He was Gabriella's, and Gabriella was his. They were perfect for each other, and everyone else knew it.

_Why am I so pathetic? _Kelsi stomped her foot furiously. Why was she thinking about Troy Bolton? She had tried to convince herself he was off-limits. She could never have him for herself. There had to be someone else out there for her…but not Troy.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a cell phone ring. It was hers. She bent down to reach her jeans, resting on the chair, where she had stuffed her beeping cell phone. The caller ID read: "Troy Bolton." Talk about irony.

"Um…hello?" Kelsi tried to make her voice calm, but inside she was freaking out.

"Kelsi! Kelsi! It's Troy." He sounded a bit ecstatic, for someone who was supposed to be in mourning because his girlfriend was in the hospital. "I need you to come over here. To the hospital. Now."

_Oh no,_ was Kelsi's first thought. Did something happen? Why was Troy so overjoyed? She bit her lip, worried. "Um, okay," she said slowly, adjusting her phone from one ear to the other. "I'm sort of stuck here at the fitting place, but I think I can convince my mom to take me…what's going on, Troy?"

"Just come over here, okay?" Troy said, all smiles. "And I gotta go, my cellphone battery's dying. I'll see you late, 'kay Kelsi?"

Still confused as ever, Kelsi asked, "Wait! What's going on over there? I—"

But she didn't get an answer. There was a bunch of static, the sound of a car honking, and then a click—and the line was dead.

**author's note: **dun dun dunnnnnnn! suspense. welll, i hope you enoyed..yay that taylor finally worked up the nerve to tell chad! ha.  
welll, please kidddies, _read & review_. Because I really, really do appreciate it. (:


	16. beatings & brokenness

**author's note:** wsupppp kids ! if you guys don't exactly remember who I am, well, I don't blame you, once again. it's been a while, I know. but hopefully I'll be updating at least one more chapter within the month .. because christmas break is coming up! yes. I'm very excited, too.  
okay, well here is the update. you're gonna _like_ and _hate_ this chapter, because of a few certain things that happen .. well just read! you'll enjoy it, I promise. xD

" Do you feel like a man when you push her around? Do you feel better now as she falls to the ground? "  
- face down, the red jumpsuit apparatus  
(you'll see later why i chose this quote.)

**Chapter Sixteen – Beatings & Brokenness **

"I wish we could call Lynda right now," Sharpay immediately spat out as she tossed her things on her bed and sat down, crossing her arms in front of her. "Lynda would know what to do."

Ryan nodded. "Yeah she would," he said, agreeing.

The two twins were sharing a small, cramped room in the even littler house that the government supplied for them after Emily Evans died. Their dad, George, was downstairs muttering to himself and unpacking his things. He had strictly told them not to bother him when he was busy, so for the time being they were both stuck in their tiny room.

Suddenly Sharpay had an idea. "Oh my god! Why didn't I think of it before?" she cried excitedly, reaching into her pocket for her pink Sidekick cellphone. "I have Lynda's number!" She glanced at her brother hopefully, but he shook his head.

"Calling her isn't going to make a difference, Shar," he told her sadly. "We can't just wish Mom back alive."

There was a little moment of silence; both siblings were taking the time to pause in remembrance of their beloved mother. They both missed her very much, and knew life was never going to be the same without her. Thinking this, Sharpay held back another few tears. She was supposed to stay strong, not just for her brother, but for herself.

"I…I want to talk to Lynda. She'll know what to do," she said quietly, folding her delicate hands together.

This time Ryan did not say anything, because the door opened and their father's dark shadow appeared before them; this time, he was smiling. "Dinner's ready," he announced cheerfully and turned on his heels back downstairs. It was as if nothing had happened; it was like…_like the old days, when Mom was alive_, thought Sharpay. _When Dad was happy. _This made her wonder what had happened in France between her father and mother, and why Dad returned home so unhappy.

Already suspicious, they slowly followed him down the winding staircase and into the dining room, where three plates had been neatly set on the table across from each other. George Evans was in the large kitchen, doing something they could never expect—_cooking._ And humming. Sharpay wondered if this was a good thing.

"We're having taquitos!" George called out from the kitchen. The deliciously wonderful smell of chicken and tortillas mixed in the air. Ryan and Sharpay cautiously sat down at the table, taking it in. This isn't so bad, they were both thinking.

Suddenly the doorbell rang.

The smile on their father's face dropped. "Who in the ruddy hell would come to our house at 7:00 in the evening?!" he cried, furious as he stamped over to the door and threw it open.

And to everyone's surprise, it was Zeke Jones standing in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and chocolates in the other. _And_ he was wearing a tux.

"Well look who dropped by, Shar…" Ryan teased sarcastically, "—your boyfriend."

To Sharpay's horror, the look on Zeke's face was pure, well…love. And the look on her father's was quite the opposite.

"Um…Zeke!" She rose to her feet, her voice shaky and nervous. "What—what are you doing here?"

Zeke grinned sheepishly; typical Zeke Jones. "I heard about what happened," he said slowly, the smile not disappearing from his face. It made Sharpay want to kiss him, if only her father wasn't standing right there. "I wanted to show some support. Everyone at school looks at me like I'm psycho, especially Chad and the guys, but I don't care. I wanted…I _needed_ to see you. So I looked up your address and with the help of the internet—"

_God,_ Sharpay thought lovingly, watching him speak. _He's too perfect. He would even MapQuest my house and visit me, because he loves me too much. Because he's perfect. _Suddenly she sighed. _But he just had to come _now_, at a time like this. _

"—and I don't know, I just decided to come dressed up with flowers and everything," Zeke continued, still smiling, "and to tell you that I'm here for you, and I'm terribly sorry with what just happened. So…these are for you." He held out the flowers and the box of chocolates, desperately hoping Sharpay would take them. Her father was just standing there, the look on his face utter bewilderment.

Sharpay smiled weakly and took the flowers and chocolates, setting them down on the couch. "Um, thanks, Zeke. I really appreciate it," she managed to choke out. Zeke gave her a loving smile.

"_But_," came the father's voice, booming, "Sharpay has to go. Right now. And you do too, young man." George glared at Zeke, who slowly backed away. He waved hastily and was running down the street. Sharpay's dad slammed the door in his face.

"Dad!" Sharpay cried. "Why did you—?"

"WHO THE HELL WAS THAT!?" yelled her dad furiously, taking a few steps toward his daughter. "WHO THE HELL DID THAT GUY THINK HE WAS, SHOWING UP AT MY HOUSE IN A TUXEDO, AND FLOWERS AND CHOCOLATES, AND WANTING TO TAKE MY DAUGHTER OUT!"

There were tears in Sharpay's eyes now, spilling out. Ryan stood up from his seat, ready to defend his innocent sister.

"No, Dad, no! Zeke was only showing his support for what happened!" she cried.

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" George shouted at her, coming even closer. Sharpay collapsed on the floor, the sounds of her crying echoing throughout the room. And all of a sudden, her father slapped her. "EXPLAIN THIS TO ME AT ONCE!" he yelled, slapping her again on the face.

Ryan ran over and blocked the next blow. "Don't you ever fucking hit my sister!" he bellowed.

"Get the hell away from here!" his dad screamed back, trying to push Ryan away.

But Ryan kept trying to block his sister from getting attacked, so he was getting slammed in the face himself. Sharpay yelled for Ryan to get away, to stop himself before he was hit again. His eye was already blackened, his nose bleeding. George slammed his son into the wall, knocking over a lamp and a few picture frames. Ryan was trying to block the blows from reaching his face, but they were too strong and kept coming.

Sharpay was sobbing now. "Please…don't hurt him! Stop it!" she cried, the sounds of her dad's attacks on her brother and her wailing drowning out her voice.

Finally George stopped. He wiped his mouth, spraying some blood on the floor; and turned on his heels and retreated up the stairs. Ryan, his face scarred and bleeding, glanced over at his sobbing sister and immediately wished he could help her, but—and they both knew this—there was nothing anymore he, or anyone, could do.

---

Taylor McKessie could not stop herself from crying. The minute she'd gotten home after picking up pregnancy books from the school library, after she had told Chad about her being pregnant (and possibly had made the biggest mistake in her life), she immediately retreated to her bedroom, slamming the door. Collapsing onto her bed, she sobbed until she couldn't sob any more. She let the tears just flow and flow.

The truth was, she was angry with herself. Why did she follow Troy's advice? What did he know about Chad? She bet Chad was at home, probably very pissed off. Questions were probably running through his mind: why hadn't she told him before? Who else knew about this?

Taylor bet anything he was mad at her. And at Troy. He probably had already figured out Troy—his loyal best friend—knew the whole time. And he was angry that Troy never told him.

_Why the hell do I still care about how Chad feels?_ Taylor wondered, sobbing onto her pillow. She thought about this for a few moments. _Because…maybe…I still do care for him. Maybe I still have feelings…_there was no denying it now: Taylor was still in love with Chad, and all his imperfections. She wondered why. He probably didn't even love her back, right? He was the one who had walked out her door on that rainy evening four weeks ago. He was probably way over her by now. Right?

"Oh God," Taylor whispered, her voice shaking, "please help me to love Chad the way you love him. The Right Way. Help me to forget all thoughts about our future, everything I once dreamed about. Help me to love him the way a true friend does. Help me to forget."

And as she said the words, she fell asleep.

---

This was unbelievable. This was crazy. _She's pregnant._ He should have known. He should have guessed this by now. He'd always suspected something was going on between Taylor and Troy, but nothing…like this. He never thought something like _this_ would happen.

Chad Danforth couldn't believe his Taylor was having an affair with Troy Bolton, and that they'd already "done the impossible." Had sex.

And now Taylor—_his­ _Taylor—was expecting.

Suddenly Chad was angry. Very, very pissed off. He was mad at Troy for betraying him like this. For lying to his face. For giving him all this crap advice on how to be "the perfect boyfriend." _What a bunch of bullshit._

But he was mad at himself the most. He'd seen the suspicious looks Troy and Taylor were always giving each other. He'd seen the two of them walking together for a little bit before and after school. They'd even sat down beside each other at lunch, right in front of Chad's face. He'd seen everything; he'd known and suspected and done the math, but—why hadn't he done anything to stop it? It was obvious they were having an affair. He should have at least talked to Troy about it before. He should have hinted that he still loved Taylor. That way, none of this would have ever happened. That way, Taylor wouldn't be…

"The P word," Chad whispered, his fists curling and tightening. He glanced around his messy bedroom with shirts, jerseys, and forgotten homework lying around everywhere, and his eyes darted over to the framed picture on the wall. It was the East High Wildcats basketball team, all in a neat row, their faces grinning with pride. The picture had been taken the previous year, when they had won the championships against West High. And right smack in the middle was Troy Bolton, holding the trophy high up in the air, a huge smile on his face. A grinning Chad Danforth stood beside him, clamping his friend on the back.

Frustrated, Chad tore down the picture from the wall. He threw it down on the floor where the frame broke into a bunch of pieces. He didn't care. He didn't care about anything anymore.

_God, I need to fucking calm down,_ Chad thought, staring blankly at the broken picture frame. He ducked under his bed to find where he'd hidden a small bottle of marijuana, but at that moment the door swung open.

"Chad, honey, are you alright?" came a meek voice. It was his mother.

He spun his head around, alert. "Yes, I'm fine, jeez. Can you just go now?" he snapped back.

The look on his mother's face was grief and sorrow. "I—heard something break, and I just came up here to see if you were alright…oh, what happened?" Her eyes dashed over to the broken mess on the floor.

"It's nothing. The picture just fell," Chad replied dully.

"Oh. Well. Um." Chad's mom hated this awkwardness that was going on, that had been going on for the past few weeks. She wanted her old son back, the son who was obsessed with basketball, the son who she was able to sit down and have a nice chatty conversation with. "Maybe you should clean it up before someone steps on anything. And—what are you doing under the bed?"

Clearly Chad was annoyed now. "God, Mother, can I just have a little privacy in my own bedroom? Maybe you could learn how to knock next time?" he snapped angrily.

Mrs. Danforth sighed and backed off. She wondered when this torment would end. "I—well, okay," she mumbled, quietly closing the door behind her, while Chad muttered, "thank you," aloud. He resumed back to his business when his cell phone, lying helplessly on the bed, started ringing.

_What the fuck! Who would call me at this time!?_ He grabbed the buzzing phone and checked the caller ID. It was a restricted number, but he answered anyway. "What," he growled into the phone.

"Hi um, is this Chad?" asked a timid, unfamiliar voice on the other line.

"Yes. Who are you?" he snapped back.

"Um. It's Kelsi. I was just wondering if you know—"

She kept talking, but Chad was too shocked to even listen. Questions and random thoughts raced through his mind. _Kelsi Neilson, also known as the Loner Girl, is calling me. She has my number. How the heck did she get my number?! Why is she even calling me?! Can't she see I'm busy?_

"—and then the line just went dead, you know, completely out," Kelsi was saying all in one breath. "He did say his phone was out of battery though. But um…I was hoping nothing bad had happened to him; I've already called the police station and there were no reports of an accident or anything. So, um, maybe he's here at your house?"

Confused, Chad blinked back into reality. He had no idea what Kelsi was talking about. "Wait, what? What are you talking about?" he asked.

Kelsi sighed, letting her breath escape. "Troy's missing," she finally summed up. "His cell phone battery is dead, I can't exactly get a hold of him, and I have no idea where he is. He's not at your place, um, is he?"

"No he isn't." Why would Troy be _here_? And not that Chad was exactly worried, but he did wonder where his so-called "friend" ran off. "Did he give you any idea as to where he's going?"

"Um yeah, he did say for me to meet him at the hospital. But I'd already checked there just 10 minutes ago. He's not there."

"You check at home?" asked Chad.

"No," Kelsi admitted. "That's the only place I _haven't_ been. The truth is, I've never exactly been there before. Can you give me directions?"

Suddenly Chad was annoyed. Who did this Kelsi girl think she was anyway, asking him for directions? Besides, he didn't even want to _think_ anymore about Troy Bolton. "Why do you care where he is? Wherever he is, he's there. Who cares. And how did you get my number?!" he practically yelled into the phone.

Sighing again, Kelsi spoke a little more softly into the phone, hoping he would understand. "Chad. I know you may not know me real well, but I'm a good friend of Troy. And I know you are too." (_Yeah right,_ Chad thought, frowning.) "But," she continued, "So wouldn't you think it's weird if Troy told you to go meet him somewhere and then he turns out not to be there?" She sounded so concerned now.

This time Chad sighed, running fingers through his long dark hair. "Look, Kelsi. You're a sweet girl and all, but personally, after some very stupid things that have been going on behind my back, I don't know if I can ever trust, let alone even _talk_ to Troy Bolton again. So as of now, I don't really give a damn where he is or what he's doing. You've called the wrong person. Bye now." Clearly annoyed, he hung up the phone and just stared at it for a few seconds, still wondering how the heck Kelsi Neilson had gotten his phone number.

Kelsi, waiting patiently on the other line, bit her lip and exhaled. She really couldn't believe this. She'd had to convince her mother to let her use the car to go find Troy, wherever he'd gone. And now, there was no way of finding him. She didn't have directions to his house. Chad was mad at him. Gabriella, the only other contact whose number she had, was laying unconscious in the hospital. And there was just nobody else.

She moaned miserably and leaned against the small red Beetle she was driving, parked neatly under the tree in the community park. Why she was at the park, she did not know. There was no end to where Troy could be at the moment.

Angry with herself, she kicked the car and leaned against the tree. She didn't even know why she was so worried about Troy—for all she knew, he could be sitting quietly at his house, drinking coffee and reading the paper. But _why_ was she so concerned? Then the answer dawned on her, followed by a wave of guilt. _Is it because, maybe, I still have major feelings for him, the way I have since the eighth grade?_ she questioned herself. But there was no denying the truth.

"Kelsi?"

She looked behind her to see where that small voice was coming from. To her immediate surprise, it was one of the guys from the basketball team, standing behind her in the now empty parking lot. _Jason._

"Hi," she breathed, her eyes looking over his tall—and rather handsome, but she'd just noticed this—figure. "Wh-What are you doing here?"

Jason gave her a shy—and yet extremely _cute_, Kelsi couldn't help but thinking—smile and pointed behind him, where a young girl was laughing and rolling around in the autumn leaves. (not that there were many in New Mexico, but whatever.) "I come to the park pretty often with my little sister Jessie. We like taking walks and uh, playing in the leaves." He blushed a little bit, as if embarrassed by this action, but Kelsi found it extremely sweet.

"But anyway, what about you? You look sort of um…distressed," Jason finished.

Did she really? Kelsi was the one blushing now. "I—well, no, everything's fine. I'm just a little bit worried about, you know, um, family stuff," she lied quietly. No way she would dare talk about Troy in front of Jason.

He nodded, understanding, and decided to keep the matter shut, much to Kelsi's delight. They stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the wind and the sounds of Jason's little sister playing with the leaves. Finally Kelsi opened her mouth to speak. "Um…so, what have you been up to lately, besides basketball and all that?" she choked out. "I hear the championships are soon."

"Yeah." There was a confident smile on Jason's face now. "Next week, actually. If we beat the Coyotes this Sunday in the finals, that is, then we're going. But you know, hah, the Coyotes are an easy match." He grinned in spite of himself. Smiling, Kelsi returned the favor.

"What about you? From what I hear in town there's a wedding in the family?" Jason smiled.

Oh gosh. The wedding. It was in less than a month now, and the family was totally—well not _totally_, but after Karyanne's little problem, there had been a huge delay and everything had to be re-scheduled and whatnot—unprepared. To make matters worse, Steve, Karyanne's fiancée, hadn't been heard from yet. "To tell you the truth, it isn't going so well," Kelsi admitted, half-chuckling.

"Who's the bride?"

"Oh, um, my sister, Karyanne. She's 22."

"Wow." Jason turned to look over his shoulder, his watchful eyes on both Kelsi and his sister Jessie. "That's great. I mean, um, congrats."

And then Kelsi found herself just pouring out her heart to him. Why _him_, Jason of all people, she did not know. But she was finally glad someone was there to listen to her. She could not express these personal, innermost thoughts even to Karyanne, her own sister. But when she was talking to Jason, and he was listening, it was just magical. Perfect.

She told him that she was worried about Karyanne, because of her eating disorder. She was worried about the wedding, and whether it would be a success, and even if Steve would still even want to marry her sister when she had a serious problem. She told him about all the stress she was going through, with pressure from her schoolwork, family issues, and lack of a social life. (She wouldn't dare tell him about her little—well maybe, _big_—crush on Troy Bolton.) Kelsi finally finished with the fact that the wedding was in less than a month and there was so much pressure on her, both from the bride and her parents. She didn't know if she could handle it all.

"And I…I don't want anything to go wrong…or it will be all my fault!" Kelsi choked, finally breaking into sobs. "It seems like everything is, damn it!"

Kelsi burst out into tears, something she had never done before in front of anybody (she had gotten used to holding everything in), and seconds later she felt strong arms surrounding her limp, frail body. She looked up to see Jason holding her, and it felt…nice. She wanted to stay like this, with Jason's arms around her while she cried silently.

"Shhh, shhh. It'll be okay, Kels," Jason whispered, his arms encircling and comforting her. "Sure, it'll be kind of hard at first, but believe me, it'll get better. It's like what my basketball coach says right after losing a game. Good things always come from bad things, eventually."

And no words could have been spoken more clearly. Kelsi knew it was the truth.

---

**  
**Troy stopped in his tracks and blinked in the bright sunlight, awed at the sight before him. A brand-new, silver Porsche (convertible-style) was parked neatly on the curb, its top down. And sitting in the drivers' seat was none other than the great Jack Bolton himself.

"Dad?!" Troy cried, incredulous. "Is that _you_?"

"Get in, Troy, we got a lot to talk about." Jack lowered his rather large sunglasses and gave him a look that meant business. Troy eagerly nodded and got into the passengers' seat, whooping and hollering. "So what's with the new car, Dad? It's pretty sweet," he commented lightly, after lowering the volume on the radio.

Jack looked straight ahead at the other cars in front him, his lips smashed together. "It's not for me," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" Troy glanced at him. "Who's it for?"

"Who do you think? You."

_What?_ Shocked, the tall brunette teenager stared incredulously at his father. _Maybe he's mental. I don't remember getting good grades or winning any basketball championships, yet. Did I do something…?_ He opened his mouth to speak, but Jack held up his hand in silence.

"I'll explain everything when we get home," he said all too seriously.

"But, Dad, I have to see Gabriella at the hospital—"

Jack whipped around and looked at his son in a very grim way. "No, Troy. You won't be visiting Gabriella today, or this whole week," he breathed.

Huh?! Troy wondered if he was being both punished and rewarded at the same time. "Dad, you can't do that, I have to see her…"

"And you will. But not this week."

Troy glared at him, his eyes fiery. "And why not?" he snapped.

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The cars in front of his seemed to move slower and slower, and all he wanted was to get home. "Like I said, Troy. I'll explain everything at home." He bit his lip. "Now just enjoy the fact that you are riding in a brand-new million dollar Porsche, and what other 18-year-old teenage boy like you wouldn't want to _be_ you." His voice was flat, and Troy was still angry, but neither really cared. Troy didn't even care about the Porsche; he just wanted to see Gabriella. The rest of the drive, naturally, was quiet, except for the upbeat music blasting from the radio speakers.

After what seemed hours, they were home; the Porsche parked expertly in the garage next to Mrs. Bolton's black Mercedes. Troy and his father sat in the car, waiting for the other to get out first.

Finally Mr. Bolton turned to his son, sighing deeply. _God, please help me tell him the news,_ he prayed silently, _and please let him have a good reaction. Oh God, please._ He looked up, wordlessly telling God his desperate prayer.

"So Troy. The reason I got you this brand-new car is because well…okay, I'll be honest with you." He bit his lip awkwardly, praying the right words would come out of his mouth. "I know you'll be pissed at me after I tell you, so the car is sort of to make up for it."

_He's bribing me into something? _Troy looked skeptical and his father went on.

"Earlier I got a phone call, Troy, from St. Joseph's Hospital. It was about Gabriella." He glanced upward to see his son coaxing him to go on, hurry.

"Gabriella's starting to wake up, the doctors say." Jack went on hurriedly, his words meshed together. "They weren't expecting it this soon. They're putting her through a bit of tests, and if she actually does awaken, there will be more therapy. Hopefully, if she does make it, she'll be fine and free to return home to friends and family. But also, if she does awaken this early, there could be dangerous results." He closed his eyes, trying to remember every word the doctor had said. Sighing, he gazed dismally at his son and said in a very low-key voice, "If the procedure fails, Gabriella could die."

Troy gawked at him. "Wait. She still has a chance of dying even though she's waking up?"

"I'm afraid so."

**author's note:** wow! so, what did you think? first off, I think Sharpay and Ryan's dad is a dickhead. second, poor little zeke. seriously. and third, poor taylor and chad .. ah I cannot believe Chad thinks Troy's the one who got Taylor pregnant! whattttan idiot. but it's all part of my twisted little plot xD you'll see! oh yeah, fourth, poor troy and gabriella! man.  
anyway, hope you enjoyed! **please read & review** and i'll know how you guys think of the story so far!

oh, for those of you who have been asking where Gabriella is .. don't worry. it's not like I hate her or anything , noooo .. by no means! she's like one of my favorite characters; I can really relate to her. (but i'm not in a coma or anything, ha.) I'll admit though, she won't appear in the story until a little while later .. but not TOO long, trust me! she'll be here. it's not like i'm going to let her die .. or will i? HA that's for me to know and you to find out.

please read and review , i really will appreciate it xD


	17. Anna

**author's note:** okay everyone .. I'm back. if you don't remember me, well , I really can't blame you. I've been super busy over the vacation and especially at school, where they literally pile me down with homework .. anyway! the point is, I'm back! yay for minimum days at school. (:   
I made you guys a **really good read** for today. I don't know why, but there's just something about this chapter. besides, you all deserve it. but be warned! that's all I can say. NOW GO READ! hah.

you've been warned.

**Chapter Seventeen – Anna**

She was going out tonight. She didn't care about what her family, little sister, or friends would say. She wouldn't dare let herself think about what had happened earlier with Troy Bolton, besides tutoring. Anna Cole was going out tonight.

Smiling to herself, she kept glancing out the window as she changed into a long, not-too swanky tee and tight black skinny-jeans. It was a perfect night to go out—dark and cloudy, yet cool and chilly. Perfect.

She slipped on about a dozen bead necklaces and bracelets, color coordinated. As a finishing touch, she tied a huge pink ribbon in her dark hair. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Ah, perfect. Totally scene. Definitely Anna.

Of course, Anna couldn't just walk right out the front door, not with her little sister Adrienne watching and her mom downstairs, probably making out with her new boyfriend Charles. So she took out a small step stool out from the back of her closet and placed it outside the window, on the roof. She shimmied out her window and down the rooftop, secret agent style. Landing on the soft grass with a small thump, she smiled satisfyingly. She was out.

"Okay, okay…" Anna hummed to herself as she fished her small lime green bicycle concealed behind some bushes. She hopped on, waving one last goodbye to her lonely home, and pedaled away. She knew exactly where she was going and there was nobody to stop her. _Ah, freedom,_ she thought wistfully as the cool night wind tangled in her hair. She loved it.

A good twenty-five minutes later, the sign came up: DOWNTOWN ALBUQUERQUE. Anna could already smell the delicious Mexican restaurant foods and hear the loud music blasting from the nightclub Mondo in her head. This, Anna knew, was where she belonged.

Arriving at her destination, she stashed her bike in a dark and deserted alleyway and, like the other tourists, stuffed her freezing hands in her pockets and began to walk. Downtown Albuquerque wasn't too downtown, meaning there weren't a lot of businesses and tall buildings. But it still had that big city-effect to it, almost like you were in California. Cars whizzed by on the street. Small bits of traffic occurred. There were bunches of homeless people crowded around fire pits and singing old folk tunes. Anna loved coming down here as often as she could, just to relive everything again and again. She would never tire from it.

A kind homeless man approached her on the street, holding his cup out. "Spare a few pennies, pretty lady?" he cooed. Anna smiled kindly, dug into her pocket, and luckily found some extra change.

"I hope this is enough for you," she said, placing the coins into the cup. The homeless man smiled and went along his business.

After a few more homeless people and some detours as well, Anna finally came upon Mondo. You could hear the club's loud upbeat music from the street. A manly-looking security guard stood watch outside the door, allowing entry to only those who could impress him. But when he saw slinky-haired Anna, he smiled and had the door already opened.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you tonight, Miss Cole," he said with a sheepish grin.

"I don't got any plans," Anna replied casually. "And it's Friday; who wouldn't be here?" She was about to walk through the door when the guard stopped her.

"Yeah, but I thought you had that little tutoring thing you told me about, with Mr. Hot-Shot Bolton."

Anna couldn't help but smile at this, knowing even the city-people in Albuquerque knew Troy's name. Oh, he was widely known across New Mexico for his basketball record and MVP status. "Nah. It turned out…Troy had other plans," she said simply.

"Plans?" The security guard raised an eyebrow. "He didn't—"

"No, he didn't, Benny. Troy has a _girlfriend_. And he's a hundred percent committed to her."

"That the girl in the coma?" Benny the guard asked questioningly. Anna nodded, and he finally let her in, glad to have the information out of her. "Have a good time, Miss Cole."

Inside Mondo was like a whole different world. The lighting was dimmed, but there were many paper lanterns along the ceiling that cast an eerie bluish glow around the whole room. There were tons of people out on the dance floor, jumping around to the electronic-upbeat style music. The DJ was dancing along with them, bunches of girls surrounding him. At the bar there were even more people, crowding around to get drinks. Mondo didn't serve alcohol, so people snuck in a few bottles of whiskey and added it to their drinks when the bartender wasn't looking. There were a few diner-style booths around the bar, where groups of teenagers laughed and drank and reminisced. Around these booths were dozens of red loveseat couches and decorative tables, where older college people sat and talked and younger high school teens made out in public. It was on one of these couches that Anna sat, sipping her Diet Pepsi from the bar and edging away from the very intimate couple that was macking each other on the other side of the couch.

It didn't take long for Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome to approach Anna sitting by herself and ask her for a dance. She smiled, took his hand, and accepted gratefully.

The first guy she danced with was named Tommy, and he was 19 years old. He wasn't all that cute, so Anna retreated back to her couch after the song was over. The second guy was pretty cute, but Anna never found out his name because his _girlfriend_ showed up and smacked her hard on the face, so she had to leave. Anna found this pretty funny, how girls can be so jealous. She would sell her whole CD collection just to get slapped again by that blonde bitch; oh yes, she would.

Two and a half hours later, the DJ announced that Mondo was closing and it was eleven o'clock. Anna sighed—she'd been dancing with another hot guy from Great Britain (British guys are so sexy!)—and left the club before the crowds could. She saluted one last time to Benny, the security guard, saying hopefully she would be seeing him next Friday.

Albuquerque late at night was a bit creepier. You could never tell who would pop up behind the walls, or if a homeless guy would approach you, asking for more money. There weren't many tourists around either. So Anna hurried down the streets, looking for the alley she had parked her bike in. After a while she found it, but…there was no bike. _Ah, what the fuck, _Anna thought miserably, desperately looking around for the lime-green bicycle. But she already knew it had been stolen. _My mother is going to beat the crap out of me. I am so dead. _

To calm her nerves, she started humming an old Dashboard Confessional song and patrolled the streets once more, hoping to run across her bike. With no such luck, she found a decent-looking diner called Rita's and stepped inside, shivering from the cold air.

There were a few chatty customers at the booths, and in the state she was in, Anna looked like a homeless person. The cooks and waitresses in the kitchen glared at her with menacing eyes. Luckily a kind, pink-haired waitress came up to her, smacking bubble gum in her mouth.

"Can I help ya? Ya look lost there, girl."

The waitress reminded Anna so much of Frenchy on _Grease_, pink-hair and everything. Even the way she talked. Anna smiled feebly and nodded. "Honestly, someone just stole my bike and I have no idea where I am. Is this still Albuquerque?" she asked.

Another waitress with extremely blonde hair came up to them, eyeing Anna quite cuttingly. "She looks like a girl from Mondo. Look, her shirt's dirty and everything." Finally she turned to Anna and said, "You look terrible. We'll fix you up a hot dinner, on the house."

Grateful, Anna smiled and both kind waitresses seated her at one of the barstools. The pink-haired one passed her a menu and whispered lightly, "By the way, I'm Petra. And she's"—she motioned to the blonde waitress who was fixing something in the kitchen—"Kath, my older sister."

Petra and Kath. _Never heard names like those before, _Anna thought to herself.

Petra kept on talking about one thousand words a second, her bubble gum still being smacked loudly. "See, Kath's quite the serious type. She wants to be a doctor, but our mama says doctors never get married and then she won't have herself grandchildren. See, that's all our mama wants, grandchildren. Preferably three girls and three boys. But Kath…see, Kath can't get no husband or no boyfriend 'cause she's too damn serious. And me? I have a sweet beau, his name's Johnny. We're only dating but Mama hopes it turns to real marriage so that she could have her grandkids." Petra laughed, spit out her stick of bubble gum, and from her pocket she got a new one and began chewing away noisily. Anna was actually interested in the story, but she kept looking at her watch from time to time to see how late she was going to be. _Maybe, _she thought, _I could hitch a ride back home from one of these two._

Kath appeared with a hot cup of cocoa, which warmed the freezing Anna to the bone. She sipped the cocoa lovingly, thinking there was no such better warmth than this.

"Anyway"—Petra obviously wasn't done with her little story—"Kath and I work late hours here at Rita's Diner to raise money to keep our mama happy. 'Cause when Mama's not happy…well, you know what they say. But oh, everyone here is so nice and friendly—"

She didn't finish her sentence because the doors opened followed by a loud jingle of bells, and suddenly Petra was running to the door and kissing a tall, beastly-looking man. "Oh, Johnny! You came!" she cried joyously.

Johnny had a thick mustache, sideburns, and a clean-shaven face. He looked pretty tough to Anna, but a bit gorgeous, she had to admit, for an older man. "Yeah, of course," he said thickly, pulling away from Petra and walking over to where Anna sat. "Who's this little lady? She looks lost," he remarked. Anna stood her ground.

"Hey, Johnny." Kath smiled frivolously and waved at him. Petra's eyes narrowed. Johnny ignored it; he never liked Kath one bit.

"_This_," Petra said evenly, changing the subject, "is a new customer. Her name is, uhhh…"

"Anna," finished Anna boldly, sticking her small hand out and shaking Johnny's big one. "How do you do?" Johnny laughed at her friendliness.

Kath was still grinning up at him. "Hey, Johnny. You want something to eat? On the house, Johnny. I'll cook it up for you, nice and warm, just the way you like it." She was sucking up to him, Anna noted. Petra noticed it too, because she pushed her sister off the table and said sweetly, "Johnny dear, I can make you something even better than _her_, you know I can…" Anna thought it was pretty funny how they were both fighting over Johnny.

But Johnny put both hands up and, laughing, replied, "Hey, whoa there, ladies. One at a time." He took a seat in the barstool beside Anna and smiled up at her. "So, where you from?"

"Oh, c'mere you Johnny!" Petra was quite the jealous type. She snatched his face and tried to kiss him, but he pulled away. Kath meanwhile was busily hurrying about the kitchen, fixing a hot meal for Johnny, the serious smile completely wiped from her face.

"Uh, here in Albuquerque. But I'm more from the suburbs," Anna replied hastily.

He smiled and leaned on his shoulders. "Ah, I see. And what is a pretty young lady such as yourself doing downtown this late at night?"

"One word—Mondo."

Johnny laughed lightly; his laugh was a comforting sound to Anna's ears. They talked comfortably for another half hour while Petra glared at them jealously and Kath kept trying to get Johnny's attention. Anna didn't want to leave the diner; she felt like it was her second home. But finally she had to give in, and glancing at her watch (it was near twelve o'clock), she dramatically announced that she had to get home before her mother and sister found out she wasn't there.

"And do you have a ride home, missy?" Johnny asked, still grinning up at her. Anna liked the way he talked; it was like talking to a person her age that just looked older. She shook her head and admitted that she did not have a ride, and naturally, Johnny offered her the favor. "Because you're so entertaining," he confessed with a smile, "and I like you, Miss Anna Cole."

Petra, of course, wanted to go with them but Johnny insisted that she stayed at the diner and help out Kath; he'll only be gone thirty minutes. And so Anna and Johnny set off for the trip in Johnny's old Buick, talking and laughing and making jokes the whole way.

Of course, Anna was really beginning to enjoy herself. She thought, _who cares what time I get home? Mom and her boyfriend don't; Adrienne doesn't for sure. Gee, I could sit in this car talking with Mr. Johnny for the rest of my pitiful life. And like I really want to go back home or to school, where I'll just be an outcast. I can just forget about the past and enjoy myself with Johnny…_ She leaned back in her seat casually, smiling widely. This had to be one of the best nights of her life.

Suddenly the car stopped in the middle of the lone highway. Johnny was looking at her curiously. "So, you got a boyfriend, Anna?" he asked.

Anna wondered for a moment why he had stopped the car but didn't bother to ask. "Nah. I think I like being solo for a while; high school boys are too much trouble. You could say I like older guys…" she joked.

"Yeah?" Johnny's eyebrow was arched. Anna was about to answer when all too suddenly he leaned over and planted a wet, slobbery kiss on her lips. Anna pulled back, startled. "What are you—?"

"Shhh, shhh." He was now leaning over her, kissing her neck while unzipping her pants. And at that moment it came clear to Anna what he was trying to do.

"Johnny, what the _hell_?!" She pushed him off of her, but he kept coming closer, grabbing her legs. "Get the fuck away from me!" she cried, desperately trying to get him off. He kept fighting back, punching and kicking and leaving bruises; she shoved him so hard that his head slammed against the window hard and he sat there, paralyzed and still, while Anna managed to climb out of the car and call the police, her face streaked with tears.

By the time the police arrived, followed by an ambulance, Anna's cuts and bruises were bleeding and she felt really dizzy, standing in front of the car with the unconscious Johnny trapped inside. The police arrested him and asked Anna told every single detail, starting from the beginning where she'd run away. She already knew she was going to get in trouble with her mom; she just didn't care anymore. She wanted to get home.

About an hour later, she arrived home, exhausted and sleepy. Her mom understood, and decided to save the scolding for later. The police explained everything that happened and assured that the thirty-something year old Johnny was put in jail for good.

And that's how Anna Cole was almost raped on a gray October evening in downtown Albuquerque.

**author's note:** i'm not going to say anything this time .. i'm really curious to hear your opinions.  
please let me know how you think of the story so far .. i'd really appreciate it. (:


	18. everything is all right

**author's note:** hi guys . i know, i know, long time no update. but one of those reasons is my lack of reviewers .. i'm starting to think this story is absolutely pointless .. oh well. thanks anyway, you guys! you're pretty sweeet. and i promise, depending on the reviews, i'll be updating more. i know, it's getting pretty intense! all part of my amazing plan; you'll see.

please enjoy! and review:)

**Chapter Eighteen – Everything is All Right**

"What a _slut_."

"She's such a whore!"

"I can't believe she would do something like that, that bitch!"

Those were the first three things Taylor McKessie heard when she walked into her homeroom on Monday morning. Two chattering girls sitting in the first row looked up as she silently entered, their eyes narrowing. It was at that moment Taylor realized they were talking about _her_.

She looked down at her growing—and showing—stomach. Yes, it was quite obvious now; she was pregnant. And the whole school knew. But how? And from whom? Only two people knew about it, Chad and Troy. But they wouldn't tell…would they? Only Troy and Chad knew.

Taylor's glanced over where Chad was sitting, quiet and alone, not talking to anyone. For a brief moment their eyes met and lingered, but Chad turned away toward the window and remained still. She sighed shortly, _He's mad. He's hurt. He can't believe I was telling the truth; he's in denial. God, why can't I just go over there and talk to him instead of sitting here? _

"Good morning, class, get to your seats." Ms. Darbus's loud and sweeping voice echoed throughout the room, interrupting Taylor's thoughts. "We have a lot to talk about today; ah, so sad…"

Unexpectedly the door opened, just a few seconds after the final bell rang, and in stepped Troy Bolton himself. His dark hair was slightly messy and he looked really tired, like he'd been up late all night. He paused in front of the classroom, muttering, "Sorry I'm late." Taylor searched his eyes for any expression, but oddly enough, he was just blank. He didn't even turn to glance at her as he silently took his seat in the first row.

"Ah, Mr. Bolton," observed Ms. Darbus, "maybe if you were more like your father, who is always on time to attend his—ah—_coach_ duties, then maybe your tardiness could improve. Honestly, Bolton, what has gotten with you these past few weeks?" She sighed before Troy could open his mouth and answer.

"Okay," Darbus continued, slow pacing around the room, "now onto the tragic news—"

At that moment, the door opened and in came Mr. Matsui, the school principal, his face looking grim. Ms. Darbus stopped her lecture and asked, "Something wrong, Principal? I was just about to tell them…"

The kind-hearted principal raised a hand to quiet her. "It'll be fine, Darbus. That's what I am here for." He leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and she nodded solemnly.

Principal Matsui cleared his throat and turned to the class, practically itching in their seats. "Okay, class," he said in a serious tone. "Now I'm sure you are all aware of the recent news between the Evans' family—the fire, Mrs. Evans' tragic death, Ryan and Sharpay moving away. For sake of privacy, I will not go on. But I am—uh—pleased to announce that your fellow classmates Ryan and Sharpay are…well, back at school."

There was a long moment of silence; everybody was taking this shocking news in.

Matsui cleared his throat again and went on. "Now all I ask of you students is to just _be nice_ to Ryan and his sister; they've been through an awful lot. I ask that you do not question them, insult them, or hurt them in any way. Really, class, they have been through every kind of hurt there is, and I just ask that you go easy on them for the next few months, all right?"

The class looked around at each other, unsure of this, but finally nodded in unison. Principal Matsui walked briskly over to the door and was about to push it open when he added, "Oh, and I know it will be difficult, but—don't say anything about Ryan and Sharpay's appearance." He waited until the class silently willed yes, and then he pushed open the door. "Mr. Evans, Miss Evans, you may come in now."

No one said a word as Ryan and Sharpay stepped into the classroom. There wasn't much to say, but—they looked different. Way different, Taylor thought, watching the two twins make their way to their desks. Ryan's face, first of all, looked horrible. It was ghost-white and face powder was trying to hide obvious bruise marks. Sharpay's eyes were red and her hair didn't even look brushed. She was wearing an old ASU sweater and jeans. She looked like she'd just tumbled out of bed.

_Usually Sharpay looks like a movie star every day, _Taylor thought silently. _What _happened

Principal Matsui gave them a final nod and absently left the room. Everyone stayed silent, afraid to speak. They were all staring at Ryan and Sharpay.

Taylor saw Troy, who sat in front of Sharpay, turn and whisper something to her. She cracked a weak—and very fake—smile back at him and said nothing. _Well, at least he's being friendly._

Ms. Darbus went on like nothing ever happened. She began sweeping around the classroom, telling the class to support the Drama Club, blah blah, until the bell rang. Taylor stayed behind for a minute, half-packing up her books, half-listening to the conversation her homeroom teacher was having with the Evans' twins.

"Ah, Ryan and Sharpay, may I have a quick word with you two?"

They stopped dead in their tracks. "Yes, Ms. Darbus?" Sharpay squeaked in a tiny voice.

"Ah, I know this isn't exactly the right time to ask you this, but…I was wondering if you were still pursuing your dreams at the Academy of the Performing Arts? Remember, your scholarship?" Darbus asked.

The two siblings looked at each other with worried expressions. Finally Ryan spoke. "_He_ wouldn't let us—I mean, maybe the theatre…uh…just isn't our calling, after all." As he spoke this, he knew it was a big fat lie. If there was one thing he and his sister loved the most, it was the theatre.

Taylor tried to look disinterested as she packed up the last of her stuff, but in truth she was very concerned now. She wanted to know the real reason why Ryan and Sharpay were giving up their dreams, and who is "he"?

Ms. Darbus looked very offended. (Well, obviously, these were her two best drama students.) She put a hand to her heart and tried to reply in an understanding tone, "I…I see, then. I'll just tell the Academy that…you two have other dreams now." She bit her lip and turned away. Ryan and Sharpay's hearts all but broke as they left the classroom without a single word.

And at that moment, Taylor couldn't take it anymore. She caught up to them just outside the room and panted breathlessly, "I heard every word you said, Sharpay and Ryan. I know what you said isn't true. Why aren't you going to the Academy? It's your _dream._" Taylor didn't care anymore about what Principal Matsui had said about "going easy" on them. She wanted to know the truth.

Sharpay was looking at her like she had no clue what she was talking about; let alone whom she _was_. "Um. I don't know; I just really need to get to class right now. I mean, we." She took her brother's arm and they scurried off.

"Damn it, tell me!" Taylor cried desperately after them. People in the hallways were staring at her now. She didn't care. Until one brave fellow senior decided to ruin things for her.

"Oh, look who stopped by. The _slut._"

The fellow senior had a snide smile on her twisted face. She had known Taylor since freshman year, and now, she and everyone else were against her. It was as if they'd never been friends, but enemies.

"Hey, slut girl! Stop sleeping with all the guys!" she cackled evilly. Everyone laughed.

Taylor's face burned red, but she tried to stay bold. She had seen this coming, the rude remarks and cruel comments, but she hadn't been expecting it this soon. "I—go away, Tara. I have to get to class," she choked out, trying not to let her tears fall.

But Tara and the crowd had surrounded her now, laughing cruelly in her face. "Why so eager to learn, slut girl? Wouldn't you rather go to the nearest _bedroom_?" Tara hooted. This got the crowd rolling on the floor. Taylor burned with shame. She tried to escape the mob, but they were surrounding her on all sides. She looked for a familiar face in the crowd, but there was no one. She was alone.

"Yeah, slut!" People were yelling at her now.

"Go home, whore!"

"We don't want sluts at East High!"

People that had once been friends with Taylor were now suddenly against her. All Taylor wanted to do at this point was drop down dead. She needed to get out of here. She was going to be sick. Her tears were coming out in sobs now, and everyone was standing there and laughing…

All of a sudden Taylor saw the one familiar face among a sea of unknown faces—Chad's. He was standing at the back of the crowd, his bushy hair allowing him to stand out, looking at Taylor and saying nothing. His lips were forced together, shut.

"Chad, help me!" Taylor managed to cry out. Still, he did nothing. Taylor braced herself, waiting to die. _God, please, take me now…_

She was about to pass out when she heard the familiar boom of his voice when he was angry. "Hey, shut the fuck up!" he yelled. Everyone, including Tara, stopped laughing and stared at him. Taylor blinked her watery eyes open. Chad Danforth was standing in front of her, almost…_protective_ of her. Like she really mattered to him, and he really cared.

"Why don't you just leave her alone? What did she ever do to you? You people need to grow up. You act like middle school kids," Chad yelled at them. Finally they all left, bit by bit, with a feeling of indifference. Chad still stood over her, protective as ever. Taylor had never admired a man as much as she did Chad.

When everybody had left, Chad gathered up his books and left without a single word. Taylor ran after him, wanting to thank him, wanting to make everything right. She wasn't afraid anymore.

She found him standing by the water fountain, alone and silent. "Chad!" she called.

His face was motionless, expressionless.

"I just wanted to say thanks, you know. For helping me out there. I wouldn't have made it without you." Taylor tried to act casual, but her voice was shaky and unsure. Chad still said nothing, but oh, how she wanted him to. "C-Chad?"

"_What_, Taylor. What." He was obviously annoyed, and she was getting irritated too.

"Okay, did I _do_ something?" she cried, hurt by his indifference. He was just like the rest of them; he hated her too. She should have realized that. "Just tell me, Chad, and maybe I can fix this! I hate not talking to you!"

Chad said nothing at first, and then he gave her a harsh laugh. "Did you _do_ something?!" he yelled back. "What a stupid question, Taylor! Do you really expect me to go along with it? Do you really think I would believe that _crap_?! Don't act dumb, Taylor. I know what you _did_ with him. Really, I can't believe you would stoop down this low just to get back at me."

Okay, now Taylor was really confused. "What are you talking about?!" she cried back. "I did what with whom?"

Finally he turned to look her in the eyes. "Don't give me that, Taylor. You hooked up with Troy Bolton. Now you're pregnant, and you _know_ it. I just can't believe you, of all people, would do this to me—I loved you, Taylor—" he stuttered, hurt in his eyes.

She could not believe what she was hearing. Hooking up with Troy? What was he talking about!? _Oh my god—that's what he thinks I did. That's why he thinks I got pregnant. But Troy's not the father…he is. And he doesn't _know Taylor had to tell him, but not in front of all these people.

"Chad, what are you talking about!? I did not hook up with Troy. We're just friends!"

"Yeah, right. How else did you get pregnant, damn it?! How?" Chad was really hurt and angry now. He didn't care who else was watching.

Taylor knew she had no other choice. She leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "You." Then she turned to face him, her watery eyes into his. "If you really loved me, you would show me. Because right now, I really need to know what is love."

Chad's eyes widened. With all that said, Taylor turned on her heels and pushed her way out of the crowd, escaping.

---

Zeke Jones walked into the East High cafeteria with a heavy heart. He'd heard all the stories, the rumors, and the truths…Ryan and Sharpay were back at school. At first, he'd been excited. But now, remembering all that had happened during that last week. Sharpay's dad had closed the door on him. And the last glimpse he witnessed was the look on Mr. Evans's face, pure shock and anger at his daughter. Now, he was afraid to even look at her, Sharpay, _his_ Sharpay.

He saw her sitting alone with Ryan at an empty table. Usually their table was so crowded with football jocks and desperate guys trying to get Sharpay's number. Sharpay was quietly munching on her sandwich, not saying a word, as Ryan went on and on about absolutely nothing.

Zeke hated their appearances. They looked distraught, lost, and hurt. He knew they'd been hurt many times in their teenage lives, but this had to be the worst hurt of all. He wanted to comfort them.

"Hey, Zeke."

"Yo, man. Earth to Zeke Jones!"

He opened his eyes to see Jason and all their basketball buddies staring at him. He turned red; he'd been blanking out again. "S-Sorry guys, what were you saying?" he asked meekly.

Jason smiled curtly. "The question is, what were _you_ thinking? You're blanking out a lot today, man."

"Sorry. It's just—"

"I know." Jason nodded over to the emptiest table, where the two siblings sat in silence. "Sharpay, right?" Zeke blushed and nodded. "I get what you feel. It's like, when you see someone you usually see a lot, yet you feel like you haven't seen them in forever. And you just feel like going up to them and talking to them, for some odd reason, even if everyone thinks they're one of the weirdest kids in school," ventured Jason in a somewhat dreamy voice. The other guys laughed at him, and he blushed.

Zeke smiled, and had to admit his buddy was right. He had a great need to talk to Sharpay. But not now. He finally laughed and changed the subject. "Yeah, so what about you, Jason? Who are _you_ thinking about?" He nudged his friend jokingly. All the guys laughed, and echoes of "yeah" went across the table.

Jason turned bright red. "I…don't know what you're talking about, guys," he said shakily.

"Oh, come on, man!" called out a black-haired guy named Allan. "We all know you've been checking out Miss Piano Player over there."

"KELSIIIIIIIII NEILSON!" offered three other guys, laughing. Jason turned salsa-red.

"Yeah, but we gotta hand it to ya, she did turn into quite a babe over the summer," said Allan with a grin.

Zeke, laughing along with them, noticed out of the corner of his eye Sharpay and Ryan getting up and leaving. _Now's my chance._ He stood up briskly. "Hey, um, be right back guys…" They didn't notice; they were too busy making fun of Jason and Kelsi.

Sharpay and Ryan were making their way to the main hallway. Zeke took a shortcut, up the stairs and past the teachers' table, and got there just as Sharpay did. The moment she saw him, her eyes widened in surprise. "Zeke!"

"Sharpay!" He was about to hug her, when she backed off, turning away.

"I…I can't," she whispered, her eyes darkening.

"What?"

Ryan had caught up to them, watching from behind a few lockers. He was biting his lip really hard, his ghost-white face seeming even whiter. Zeke felt like he didn't know these people anymore. Where was the old Ryan and Sharpay? What had _happened_ to them?

Now Sharpay was backing away even more. "I just…can't, Zeke. I'm really sorry." Her eyes were shining with tears. "I want to, Zeke, you know I do. But…I can't." With that said, she rushed back into the comforting arms of her brother and they both hurried away, down the hall and out of Zeke's sight.

At first, he couldn't believe what he had just heard. Sharpay Evans, who absolutely loved Zeke with her whole heart, had broken up with him. And not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Suddenly Zeke felt anger bubbling up inside of him, an everlasting fountain of hatred. _Who would force Sharpay to do something like this? Who!? _

It was a question that would bug him for a very, very long time.

---

About an hour after his lunch break, Coach Jack Bolton was sitting in his office, thinking about basketball. The East High Wildcats, with Zeke Jones as their playmaker, had defeated the Coyotes that previous Sunday, fifty-two to thirteen. That meant the championships this week was all theirs.

His mind began to wander. He thought about more basketball, then suddenly his relationship with his wife. It was a turbulent, awkward relationship. Lately they hadn't been speaking, and they had no idea why. _Maybe it's all the basketball pressure_, Bolton though miserably. _Or Troy and Gabriella…_

"Mr. Bolton, sir?" Mrs. Charles, the school receptionist with her huge retro-red glasses, poked her head through the doorway, holding the wireless. "You have a phone call. It's from Dr. Sullivan at St. Joseph's, I think—?"

Suddenly Jack sat up in his chair, grabbing the phone, and said his most business-like voice, "Hello, this is Jack Bolton."

"Hi, Mr. Bolton? This is Dr. Jane Sullivan calling about Gabriella."

"Yes, yes, I know," hurried Jack. "Well, how is she?"

"Actually—she's doing fine. She's responding. I think it would be best for your son to go see her now." The doctor's voice was calm and serene.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Then he went back to business. "Okay, right now?" he asked calmly.

Dr. Sullivan coughed once. "Ah, when he has time…perhaps immediately after school would be best. It would be better for Gabriella to hear his voice, we think—oh, but don't get his hopes up too high, Mr. Bolton. Gabriella isn't fully awake yet."

"All right, will do, Doctor. Thank you."

They hung up and Jack leaned back into his chair. _Why am I so worried? _he thought, smiling at himself. _Everything's going to be just fine. We'll win the championships, Gabriella will wake up, Troy will get his basketball scholarship, and it'll all be back to normal._

Everything will be all right.

**author's note:** uh oh! trouble ahead! please review, you know you want to :)


	19. Enough

**A/N: **And here I was for like five months, thinking I would never be able to continue this story. well I'M BACK! (squeals) I was re-reading IMWY and thinking, wow, this was actually really good. there's no reason not to stop writing this. I just love East High drama; in a world controlled by my domineering parents and my boring, bland life, it thrills me. I hope you're all up to date.. haha, after five months or so, it could take a while to get back.

Happy holidays, everyone. (:

**Chapter 19 - Enough**

"Hi, I'm here for Gabriella—" began Troy as he stepped up to the St. Joseph's check-in desk. The nurse, not taking her gaze off of the computer screen in front of her, rolled her eyes.

"Montez. Yes, Mr. Bolton, I know," she said curtly. "You're here every single day."

He blushed slightly, clearing his throat. "Um…yes." He didn't feel like clarifying Gabriella was his girlfriend; and it was an obligation to go see her. "So what, can I get my sticker and go through?"

She typed something with her fast little fingers and finally looked up. "You're sure you want to do this, Mr. Bolton?"

"Why, what's wrong?" Troy asked nervously.

She sighed, flicking a piece of fire-red hair from her eyes. "Nothing. She's just, according to my records…" she trailed off.

"I was informed I should come here and visit her right after school ends." Troy said tersely. "And school ended."

The nurse, whom Troy was beginning to seriously dislike, rolled her eyes again. Like she knew everything. She didn't understand how Troy felt—how he'd been feeling—this whole time Gabriella's been gone. She wouldn't understand the emotional pain he went through every single night without hearing her sweet voice. She'd probably never come _this close_ to losing someone so dear. "Go on up," she said at last, forgetting her main subject. Troy glared one last time and stalked away into the elevator up ahead. He was shaking and very, very nervous.

When the lift opened and he found himself on the twelfth level, he was greeted by a man in a white lab coat with an 80's style buzz-cut. The strange man smiled politely, stuck out his left hand and they shook; he had a firm grip. "Troy Bolton, hello," he said in an odd deep voice. "We've been waiting for you."

---

Karyanne and Steve's wedding was being moved. To April of next year, specifically. _How did this happen?_ Kelsi, the bride's worried younger sister, kept wondering. She crossed her arms and frowned. She was sitting at the family table during another quiet dinner, immersed in her thoughts. To the left, her parents were deeply involved in a intellectual conversation about her father's work; to Kelsi's right, Karyanne was picking at her macaroni.

"Kar, you need to eat," Kelsi reminded her. For once she felt like _she_ was the older sister.

"I'm working on it, Jesus Christ," Karyanne snapped. She'd not been in any mood lately.

Suddenly their parents looked up from their conversation about, whatever. Mom asked quietly, "Karyanne, so um, you're okay with the new arrangements?" She had the most worried, motherly expression on her face.

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Karyanne twirled her fork around on the plate. "It's only a goddam wedding ceremony. It can be in a _barn_ for all I care."

Kelsi reached across the table and grabbed her hand. She knew her sister better than that. "Are you okay?" she asked fearfully.

It took a few moments, and then tears welled in her sister's eyes. She attempted to wipe them fiercely, but they kept on flowing. "It's just…I miss him so much," she moaned miserably. "Steve, I mean. He's off at his job and he has no idea what's going on with me…I don't want him to…for all we know, he could leave me! But I miss him so much! I love him _so_ much!"

Mrs. Neilson patted her daughter's arm. "Sweetie, we know. That's why we're changing the date to April. Nine months from now. We're giving you time for recovery." She smiled ruefully. "And this way you can have the big wedding you've always wanted! No tiny chapel or community center reception. By April, you'll be better and you won't have to visit Dr. Fonda's anymore. And we can have the wedding at a beautiful hotel, or at Grand Avenue Park by the lake…"

Karyanne bit her lip. She looked like a crying little girl the way she was positioned, her frail body, slumping in the chair. "Would Steve understand?" she asked meekly. "That I have to get better?"

Gently, her father pushed the cordless phone across the table at her. He gave her a weak laugh. "There's only one way to find out."

She was already freaking out. "No way. I am _not_ calling him. No way."

"Kar, you have to," Kelsi reasoned. She was shaking just like her sister. "You have to tell him we're postponing the wedding before he comes down in _two weeks_ to Albuquerque and finds out that it's not until April. He has a job, you know. He can't be leaving every single weekend. You have to tell him. Tell him everything, from start to finish. It's best he knows the whole truth."

Karyanne shivered and the pale skin on her tiny arms rippled eerily. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"I know. But you have to do it. Now or never."

Sighing, Karyanne picked up the phone and wordlessly pushed each number button on the dial pad. She closed her eyes, saying a little prayer and a wish to go along, and pressed her ear to the receiver. "Hello? Steve? It's me, Karyanne." Suddenly she smiled. "Hey, baby. I missed you. Hon, I have something to tell you." She got up, phone against her cherry lips, and moved upstairs to where she could have a private conversation with him. The last words were heard faintly: "I love you, Steve…this is going to be hard on you, but…" The door shut, and she was drowned out.

---

Back at the Cole's house, Anna was being severely punished.

"You're grounding me for the rest of my high school career?!" she yelled at her mother, crossing her arms and frowning. She was on her period and being pissy the whole day, so this behavior wasn't any different. "You're _grounding_ me at the peak of my senior year social life?"

Her smirking little sister Adrienne took this opportunity to add in, "Um, hello, you _have_ no social life."

Anna flinched; this was partly true, but what did Adrienne know? "Shut the hell up, you." Adrienne stuck her tongue out in response.

Their mother Patricia sighed, running a hand through her eccentrically blonde hair. She was going for the "crazy Andy Warhol" look; instead, she looked like she'd been through a permanent lightning storm. "Both of you; quiet," she said tiredly. "I can't think straight."

"You, Mother, can't think at all," Anna snapped back. She knew she was going to get it after that, but she didn't care.

Patricia retorted, "Excuse me, young lady, but aren't _you_ the one going to over-21 clubs and aiming to get raped by fifty-year-old men? Don't tell me that's being logical. Hardly." She scoffed; she wasn't so good at giving lectures. Sighing for the hundredth time that evening, she continued, "You have a big mess to clean up, missy. You missed school for two days already because of your 'accident.' You've been a brat; your poor sister and I have dealt with your obnoxious attitude the last seventeen years, and now _this_… god, Anna, do you know what this does to me?"

She was going for the guilt trip, but Anna was taking it the other way around. "Oh, please. Don't give me that sob story, Mother. You're over-dramatizing things again. Johnny's in jail now. I'm all right; it was a shitty night and I don't wanna relive it, so let's move on," she spat out.

But her mom wasn't willing to give up. "It still _happened_, Anna, and we can't change that. Honestly, can't you just sit still with your little friends at school?" Then she added out of interest, "Oh, and whatever happened to that nice boy who always came over for tutoring?"

Anna snorted. "Who, Troy Bolton?" To be honest, she hadn't thought about Troy for a long time. She wondered how he was doing with Gabriella; if she was getting any better.

"Yes, him!" Adrienne squealed from nowhere. She teasingly socked her sister on the arm. "Wasn't he your boyfriend?"

Anna thought back to the afternoons when Troy came over, to laughing with him about something a teacher had said, to making dumb chemistry jokes…to that accidental kiss on the front porch. A lot had happened between them. Luckily, the drama was over now, but they could still easily be friends, with hope. Or something like that. "He's…not my boyfriend," she said considerately. "He's just…Troy, I guess."

Patricia crossed her arms. "Well, you should invite him over more often," she pointed out. "He's such a _nice_ boy…and very good-looking too."

"Mom," Anna groaned, covering her ears. "Please do me a favor and shut up."

She grinned. "Hey, get used to it. If he's your student, he'll be here quite often," she replied, glad the tension between mother and daughter was over now. With luck, perhaps they could eat dinner in peace.

"So what, am I still grounded?" Anna asked out of nowhere, still pushing it.

Patricia bit her lip uneasily. "Okay, tell you what. I'll un-ground you if you promise to bring home more nice friends—like this Troy boy—and a smiley attitude instead of the sulky one you always have," she reasoned. Her daughter nodded; it was a fair deal. "You know Anna, I've noticed whenever _he's_ around, you're like pink jelly in his hands. You're so carefree and sweet." She nudged twice, smirking. "You have a crush, don't you?"

Anna rolled her eyes. For once she felt like being a real daughter instead of the sarcastic bitch her reputation had marked her for. She actually smiled. "We've been through this, Mom. Troy has a girlfriend." She felt a teensy bit of regret and an even smaller hint of jealousy as she admitted this, but there was nothing she could do. It would be selfish if she tried stealing him away from the girl who truly deserved his love, the girl who always had. Not Anna.

As smart-ass as she could be, Anna was not heartless. She saw, she predicted, she felt. And for now it was enough.


End file.
